


Sins of the Many

by VisceralGod



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Be patient with me please!, Consequences too, Dream-soul stuff, Ecto-Penis (Undertale), Excessive amounts of judgement and guilt, F/M, Hate-Flirting, I think this story is a slow burn, I'm a little nervous, Like mega slow probably, Mentions of Death, Non-Binary Frisk, Now with sin, Paps gets a little angst here, Papyrus is a cinnamon roll, Protective Sans, Reader Is Not Chara, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader calls it like she sees it, Reader is a police chief, Reader is actually just really shy, Reader is one tough cookie, Reader is slightly tsundere, Sans and reader will probably hate each other at first, Sans facing the real world, Sans has to relearn what choices are, Sans is pretty broken, Selectively Mute Frisk, Slow Burn, There will probably mentions of racism against monsters, We'll probably get into sinner territory way later, mostly makin' out honestly, protect him at all costs, reader has a little brother, semi-public handjobs, this is my first fanfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2018-12-24 12:54:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 113,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12013179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisceralGod/pseuds/VisceralGod
Summary: All cops bear scars; you're no exception.With the monsters having escaped Mount Ebott merely two years ago, there's tension all around. What happens when things come to their boiling point?And WHO are these skeletons that are so intent on being in your life?





	1. Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Um. People die in this fic, so... be prepared? Also, this is the first fanfiction I've posted since my days back on Quizilla, so... It's not that bad, I think?
> 
> Oh. And uh, this first chapter is mainly exposition heavy, for what's going on in the reader's life. So like, Sans will probably come in at a later chapter. Probably the next. Enjoy some Pap in the meantime.
> 
> By the way, the idea of Pap being a cop was inspired by Osteocitation (by ShittyDinner), so please go give that a read!! It's one of my favorites.

You sat at your desk, tapping your fingers absently as you read through file after file, each report seeming to meld together with the last. It hadn’t been long since the monsters had escaped from Mount Ebott (led out by a child, no less), and had begun integrating with society. Some people had taken the sudden presences better than others, but there was no mistaking that _everyone_ was jarred by the sudden appearances. Two years, it had been since that event, and things had seemed to settle down for the most part. The attacks on both sides had _thankfully_ been declining, and things were starting to seem normal. You, the chief of police, sighed as you peeled your eyes from the forms- just for a moment, you chastised yourself- and proceeded to grope blindly under your desk for your mini-fridge. It was what- eleven now? You definitely deserved a soda for a job well…doing. You knew you wouldn’t be even remotely done until daybreak tomorrow, and you would continue this cycle until the weekend, but you couldn’t find yourself willing to complain. This had been what you chose, after all.

                You shut your eyes, reveling in the moments of silence, nearly falling asleep despite the extra caffeine—the desk had long since become an area of comfort, and you could fall asleep there on a dime- and you would’ve if the sudden blaring ring of your emergency line hadn’t shocked you awake. You glared at the device, cursing it under your breath before sitting up, bringing it to your ear, and readying yourself with a pen. “Hello, this is Chief Officer (F/N) (L/N) with the Ebott City Police.” You’d repeated that greeting so many times, you could recite it in your sleep. Of course, not many people contacted you as _Chief_ these days, but it was a holdover from when you was stumbling your way through the ranks.

                “(F/N), you need to get down here _now._ ” You suddenly stiffened at the voice. You knew that tone. That was a murder tone, but somehow… something was different. Your field officers rarely called your by name when it was business. It was always Chief. Your stomach twisted, but your voice remained steady.

                “Location and severity, Marks?” You dropped your pen, instead grabbing your personal cellphone and heading out to your car. The station was located in the center of the city- it would take you thirty minutes tops (while speeding, of course…) to reach the sticks, but you figured things would be relatively calm out tonight anyway. It was a Tuesday at 11. No one should be out. You slammed the car door, nodding as the officer relayed the address to you. At the severity, his tone faltered, and you didn’t fail to miss the hesitance in his voice. “ _Situation,_ Marks.” You snapped, as you flipped on the lights and set your now-bluetooth enabled phone down into the cupholder.

                “Well…it’s Casey, ma’am.” Your fists tightened around the steering wheel as soon as the name played over the stereo. If you’d been reading the tones correctly earlier, and _Casey…_ You swallowed the saliva that just wouldn’t stop coming, more nausea twisting in the pit of your stomach, but you just pushed the accelerator, unsure if you wanted him to go on or not. “I mean, he-”

                “That’s enough, Marks. Please.” You knew your voice wasn’t as stable as it had been prior. As much as you knew you needed to be told the situation before arriving, you couldn’t bear listening to it while you were speeding down the road. And… and maybe, if he didn’t tell you, you could convince yourself that you’d misread the signs. It was just a robbery. That’s all. It was something little, Casey got in trouble a lot, it was nothing more. “ETA 3 minutes. Hold everything down for me.” You cut the comm and just sat in silence. Just the whirring of the car and your thoughts. Three agonizing minutes you put yourself through, because you wanted to hold onto a shred of hope that what you felt, that what you trained to know, was utterly wrong. When you pulled into the lot, you were greeted by three squad cars, each ajar, lights on and doors wide open. You put your car in park, barely taking the time to shut the door before observing the scene. Everything seemed quiet, so you took the time to enter the warehouse, spotting Officer Marks closer to the door.  You took a breath before she spoke, “Where is he? Where’s Casey?”

                The taller officer cleared his throat, grabbing your elbow gently to pull you aside, lowering his voice slightly, “Chief, listen, I’m sorry to inform you-”

 “Don’t use your _police voice_ on me. Where is my brother?!” You snapped, pushing his hand away. At this point, you knew the answer, but despite that clench in your chest, you still knew you had to hear it- no, _see_ it, for yourself. At your urging, Marks pulled you toward the blanket in the corner, surrounded by your fellow officers. You’d seen this before, hell, you’d seen gorier. You’d seen houses burned, families charred, men stabbed and mugged, and somehow, that plain black sheet was somehow more terrifying than all of them. You felt your hands tremble as you grabbed the corners, slowly tugging them off to reveal the pallid stone face of your brother. Of Casey.

                And yet, all you could do was stare. There he was. Eyes closed, not a single muscle strained. He could’ve just been asleep. “Check his pulse.” You whispered up at the crew, settling on your knees, reaching, but unable to do it yourself.

                “Ma’am, we already-”

“ _Do it again!_ ” You rasped, slamming your fist onto the cement. You bowed your head after your outburst, “Just… just do it again.” You heard the rustle of fabric as one of the officers kneeled down to press two fingers to Casey’s neck. After a few moments of silence, all eyes just turned onto you, almost expectantly.

                “(Y/N). Casey’s _gone_.” Marks said, dropping a hand onto your shoulder. “We’re sorry for your loss.”

 _Loss._ Your eyes welled up, and you did your damnedest to bite back those tears, but the burning was just too much. You just hid your face in your sleeve, doing your best to muffle your sobs. It just… it couldn’t have been Casey. He was fine just hours earlier, complaining about his teachers and schoolwork, like he always did. He had texted you that he was home safely, and that he’d finished dinner and put some in the fridge for you, just like always. Nothing had been wrong, or unusual. What the hell happened? Why was he here, dead on some warehouse floor? You reached down hesitantly running your fingers over the back of his hand, and the way your recoiled, the ice in his veins may as well have been fire. How could you have let this happen to him? What had you failed to protect him from? “What happened…? Who…?”

                “We’ve got the only witness in Riley’s squad car, but… he said he refused to talk until the next of kin showed up…” Marks pulled you up, holding you steady on your feet, “We’ll bring him here.” You nodded numbly, watching the two other police exit to their car. As you stared at your brother’s corpse, you re-ran the events of the day in your head, wondering if there was any prelude- anything that even remotely hinted that your brother was going to die today. You stood in silence, engrossed in your thoughts, until approaching footsteps caught your attention. When you met the rounded eyes of the peculiar monster, you forced yourself to behave like you’d been trained to. You wanted to tackle it, scream, demand to know who did this, _how_ they could’ve allowed this to happen to such an innocent boy, but… instead, you just exhaled deeply through your nose. You’d dealt with monsters before- this particular one was… new. A sort of horned creature, deep green, lanky, with a hunched stance. If you were getting better in deciphering monster ages, then this one was almost certainly a teen.

                After scrutinizing the monster, you placed your hands behind your back, forcing your chest out, and donning a steely look, trying to undermine the tears that were still fresh on your face. “So, you know what happened here? Would you mind informing us as to why this boy is…” Your throat tightened, and instead of forcing the word, you instead gestured to the ground.

                “I-I told you officers. I ain’t talking until his family’s here.” He kept his eyes glued onto the black blanket at the officer’s feet.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “I _am_ his family.” Your arm itched with the desire to punch him- how dare this kid act as if he had some leverage? This could have been anyone, and he was being unusually stubborn about it. Not to mention, most people ask for _lawyers_ before they refuse to talk, not the family of the deceased, but maybe it was a monster thing. Regardless, you took a step forward, glaring sharply at the only thing keeping your from tearing this city apart. “He is my brother, my only baby brother and _you_ are going to start talking or else I’m going to turn you into-!!“ Your shoulders were suddenly pulled back, and a hand wrapped firmly around the fist you had no idea you’d raised.  
                The monster flinched, just a bit, before looking over the body once more, “L-Look, lady. Officer. Ma’am, it was an _accident_ , okay?” He shuffled back, only to be jostled against the officer keeping a firm grip on his chains, “I didn’t know he had a weak soul, I only thought I’d scare him a little, you know? I didn’t think he was going to _die!_ ”

                Your eyes narrowed. This monster was the one to do this? And why? Some _scare_ tactic? It had been two goddamn years since they integrated, there was no need for that kind of thing! “You did this.” You looked down at Casey, biting your lip before attempting to throw yourself onto the monster, “You did this to him!” Held back by your other officers you snarled, “You should’ve _stayed_ underground.” You knew there was no way that they were going to let you go with him within arm’s length, but hell if you wouldn’t make a valiant effort, “And if I _ever_ get to you, your ass isn’t going _just_ underground. You are going to _be_ dirt _._ Do you hear me?” You’d stopped your struggling long enough to study that monsters face. You hoped, for his sake, that he found a nice prison cell and stayed far, _far_ away from you.

                “Well, that’s a confession enough, and the Chief isn’t really in too stable a state, so…” Marks rubbed his neck, pulling you into his side, “Take him back to the station. The coroners on the way, so I’ll take care of the Chief for the rest of tonight. Head on back.” The tall brunet officer held you back as the other officers led the monster away, and waited until the doors swung shut before finally letting go and covering the teen’s body once more. You watched in a way that could only be described as despondent, before dropping your face into your hand. Officer Marks searched for something to say- anything, that wasn’t the cop procedural ‘sorry for your loss’, or ‘we’ll have this sorted out’. It was different; (Y/N) was the _chief_ , a friend, someone who had helped _all_ of them through hard times. “Look, (Y/N)…” He shifted back, trying his best to inconspicuously get a glance at your face, “If you need to talk about anything, you know I’m here, right? We _all_ are.”

                You looked up at him briefly, debating on whether to take him up on that offer, before just opting to stare back down on the sheet. Even if you wanted to talk, what was there to say? There was so many things you wanted to, but the only person you wanted to say them to was unable to hear them. “Thanks, Ron.” You mumbled, but didn’t speak further. The two of you just stood in silence until the coroner arrived, and removed Casey’s body. You wanted to say something for him, but thought it may be too cliché, and instead just followed his body in silence to the van. You only snapped out of your daze when the doors shut and the coroner addressed you.

                “Officer (L/N). We’re… all so sorry for your loss. I know you’ve got a lot on your mind, but Officer Tedd briefed me on the phone. This might be a hard decision, and I know you’ll want to contact your family, but… we’d like to keep Casey for study. We think we might learn something more about monster attacks and every victim helps…” The coroner wrung her hands, waiting for you to respond. She was used to dealing with grieving families, and cops, but somehow, to see both in one was… incredibly strange. There was usually so much commotion, emotion, outbursts, but if anything, you just seemed disconnected.

                “Just… just take good care of him.” You whispered, putting your hand against the car door, “…you can keep him.” If something could come out of this- some other human would be protected from a monster’s magic, then maybe there would be some reason for all of this. It wouldn’t make it better- _nothing_ would make it better. But there would at least be some sense in it. “I… I’ll call tomorrow, alright? I think I need to go home…” You barely waited for a response before meandering back over to your car, and just sitting in the front, staring at the wheel for a long while. Was that really it? Your brother would be taken away to some lab, and you just drive home? That’s… _really it_?

                You waited several minutes after the van left, almost expecting something to happen. You waited for the tears to start again, or for a text message, or a call, or anything, but… it was just silent. Nothing was happening, and nothing was _going_ to happen. After gathering yourself, you started your car, turned the radio on low and made your way home. Pulling into the driveway, you could’ve convinced yourself that this was all just another day. The neighbors were asleep, no one was waiting at your door, clamoring to know where Casey was, or why this happened to him. Even when she got into the house, everything was just as you remembered it being before you left. It was just like any other Tuesday- maybe if you went and checked his room, he’d be asleep there. Maybe this was all some stress induced hallucination, and you hadn’t failed in protecting him. Maybe things were okay, and this was all just some diluted message trying to tell you that you were working too hard, and was neglecting to pay attention to him in your waking life. You trekked through the house, opening up his room door, and flicking the light on. You sat on the cluttered bed, looking around at the various magazines and wires and shirts strewn about.

                “Guess I was asking too much for it to be a dream.” You stared around the messy room- instruments, books he’d never read, his game systems. Everything else was as it should be, yet, _he_ wasn’t. He just **_wasn’t_** anymore. You forced yourself up, shutting the lights off behind you.

 

                Three months had passed, each day same as the last. You stared blankly into your paperwork, clicking your pen repeatedly. It was… strange to consider that life had just gone on. After you set up a funeral for Casey and informed everyone who needed to know, it seemed that- for everyone else- his memory just simply faded into the background. It was hardest for you at home- when you went and realized that no one was there, there was no one to talk to, or for you to tell your wild stories and jokes you’d been storing up to. You’d always been considerably reserved, but now it just felt like total isolation. The only place you really talked was at work, when the other officers would come in and talk about work, or when Marks would check on you. There was always the odd civilian, asking for help on something, but really, you could probably count the words you said every day.

                You shook your head of the thought, Marks had suggested you see a therapist, step away from the office to recuperate, but this was all you had left to occupy yourself. If you tore yourself away from here, then… what else would there be for you to do, other than drown in these thoughts? A knock at the door caught your attention, and you hummed for them to enter. “Hello, Chief.” Marks strolled in, one hand tucked into his pocket, while he scratched his neck with the other, “So, you remember how we recently got those new recruits…?” You set down your pen, leaning your elbow against your desk. You nodded, watching intently as he mulled over his words, “Well, the newest batch of them are pretty… unique. Rowdy.” He smiled, though it was tightlipped, and without humor. “We thought maybe bringing you in would calm them down. You know, straighten them out a little.”

                You blinked up at him- you really should be burying yourself deeper into this mountain of paperwork, but you couldn’t find yourself denying the opportunity to go talk to other people. Even if it was just to startle them, you was already reveling in an opportunity you hadn’t even taken yet. You stood up, walking out of the room with your secondhand officer, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to see them.” You kept in stride with him, but couldn’t help but notice he kept his hands jammed in his pockets, eyes set staunchly forward. Alarm bells were already blaring in the back of your mind, but there wasn’t anything you could immediately point to. He was being avoidant and defensive, sure, but for all you knew, it could be a personal issue. Still, you put up your guard, preparing yourself for the worst. Scowl set firmly in place, you waited a moment for Marks to enter the room and address the recruits before you straightened your spine and entered as well.

                A quick scan of the room, told you everything was nor- what the _hell_ was that? Your breath hitched for a moment, eyes widening as your hand automatically went to cover your chest. There was a six foot skeleton, standing among the recruits, donned in a uniform and everything. You forced your feet to stay planted where they were, the scowl morphing into a venomous glare. _A monster._ You had to deal with them every now and again, but having one so close to just seemed wrong. You felt the hand on your chest clutch the fabric, and you opted to keep it there- if what the coroner told you was right, then it was where the ‘soul’ was housed, and that’s where monsters attacked. You scanned the faces of everyone else, noticing no one else seemed perturbed by the giant skeleton in the room. You glanced at Marks and suddenly understood his disposition. You narrowed your eyes at him, and the way he shrunk just slightly didn’t escape your gaze, but instead of chiding him aloud, you turned your attention to the recruits. “I heard you _rookies_ were getting out of hand,” You turned to face them all, forcing the hand guarding your soul to your side for a moment. “And I want to make it absolutely _clear_ that the Ebott City Police Force isn’t a joke. If you’re going to treat the safety of everyone in this city like a _game_ then **get out**.”

                “I LIKE TO THINK THAT WE SHOULD BE ENTHUSIASTIC! JUST BECAUSE WE’RE LEARNING TO PROTECT DOESN’T MEAN WE HAVE BE AGGRESSIVE, TOO.”

                The entire room froze. Not only had the skeleton come into your station, but it was questioning how you did things, too? You’d rarely had recruits talk back to you- usually, they were all too intimidated at the thought of being kicked out to even try. But here was this loud, strangely optimistic monster, not only talking back, but doing so in a way that wasn’t entirely disrespectful? Your mind took a few seconds to try and properly register what just happened. You put your arms behind your back, trying to regain some of the composure you felt slipping away from you. “Really.” You blinked, meeting the monster’s dark black eyes(sockets?). They were completely different from that monster who had killed Casey, yet for some reason, your pulse leaped. Was it that he was bigger? That he could probably use his magic to kill you, like the other had done to your brother? You felt your legs shake, but knew better than to portray your fear. “You. Come over here.”

                “M-ME? WOWIE… PERSONAL RECOGNITION BY THE CHIEF OF POLICE MY FIRST DAY!” The skeleton strutted from the back of the room, stopping right at your side. You felt your eyebrows furrow as you watched him bounce on his feet slightly- the action childlike- just so _excited_. It was almost like he didn’t even know that this was supposed to be a punishment, not a reward.

                “What’s your name, rookie?” You crossed your arms, craning your neck to look up at him. Now that he was at your side, you could tell that he was easily above six feet. Six five, at the very least, but he could’ve been even taller. If he didn’t have such a confident grin on his face (wait a minute, he was a skeleton. Was that a grin, or was it just his face? Was that racist?), and such a boisterous voice, he could’ve actually been sort of threatening. Of course, the fact that he was a monster had you on edge, but you figured he wouldn’t try to kill you right here. Of course, whatever magic he used would have to be faster than your taser… but that was beside the point.

                Almost too dramatically, the skeleton struck a pose before happily bellowing, “I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS!” You almost wanted to laugh at the spectacle- and you might’ve if you weren’t fearing for your life and everyone else’s in the room. You wanted to just send him out- a quick solution, but one with a messy repercussion…  You quickly directed your mind away from that train of thought- of course it would be an act of discrimination to dismiss him, simply because you were _afraid_.

                Maybe instead of terminating him yourself, you could scare him into quitting on his own. It usually worked with the nice ones. If he was really as optimistic as he was acting, he would crack under the pressure in no time. “Papyrus.” You repeated, taking a predatory step toward him, “Do you have any experience in protecting someone?”

                The skeleton beamed proudly, puffing out his chest as he spoke, “OF COURSE I DO! I WAS A ROYAL GUARDSMAN (WELL, IN TRAINING). I MADE THE BEST PUZZLES! NO ONE COULD EVER SURPASS THEM (WELL, EXCEPT FRISK...)” He boasted, and you tilted your head just slightly. What would the monster royalty need guards for? From what you heard, most monsters were generally very cordial with each other. You noted that he seemed unfazed at your proximity- practically within arm’s length, and despite your own fear, took another half-step closer.

                You glared up at skeleton, though you felt more like a child throwing a tantrum due to the sheer height of him, “A guardsman. Impressive.” Your voice was devoid of any actual compassion or empathy, “But puzzles don’t _protect_ people.” You put your hands on your hips, “You think you’re cut out to deal with muggings? Or robberies? I don’t think your puzzles are going to protect anyone from a riot.”

                The monster- Papyrus- looked at you, almost in shock. “WHAT?? OF COURSE THEY WOULD!” He huffed indignantly, before seeming to catch himself, “MISS CHIEF, YOU HAVEN’T SEEN _MY_ PUZZLES. THEY ARE TRULY GREAT.” You went against every instinct you had not to scoff at him. Your look must’ve remained unimpressed, because Papyrus continued talking, “I CAN ASSURE YOU, I’LL BE THE FINEST POLICE YOU’VE EVER MET, NYEH!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY, so, if you made it this far, holy crap, I love you. Please leave a comment!! I wanna know if it's good enough to continue or not... I have a little more written, but if it's not good, then y'know, I'll scrap it.  
> Please give me constructive criticism so I can learn. Writing is hard. I've got this whole story planned out already, so if it's just bad execution, then at least I can redo it from there.
> 
> By the way, the idea of Pap being a cop was inspired by Osteocitation (by ShittyDinner), so please go give that a read!! It's one of my favorites.


	2. And Found?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You take Papyrus under your wing... sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, I know I said Sans would be in this chapter, but I'm sorry, I lied. Next one for sure, though. I know this one's slightly shorter, but it's because I figured the pacing would be helped if I separated this one and the next one. Hopefully the next one'll be up faster!

It felt like a challenge. It _was_ a challenge. You glared daggers at the monster; he had to have known that you were trying to get rid of him. Why else would he act so confidently? Make such a bold claim?  Suddenly, your suspicions flared up- what if he was trying to hurt everyone in the academy? What if souls were easier to damage once you trusted the attacker? You couldn’t let all the recruits, or worse, the active police force die because this skeleton was trying to plan something. Sure, _you_ didn’t particularly want to die either, but you probably had a better chance of seeing it coming, since you were already skeptical. You’d have to watch this one closely. “We’ll see about that, rookie.” You all but snarled, “Return to your seat. And stay after the session. We’re going to talk.”

                The rest of the class gave a low ‘oooh’, and suddenly, for you, all of the color of the room had snapped back into place; had the walls always been so white? The lights so vibrant? Either way, you turned your attention to the rest of the recruits- just because you called out the only monster didn’t mean you weren’t still a chief. “What are you all? _Five?_ ” You growled, noticing how they all suddenly straightened up. “Get a damn grip, you babies.” You folded your arms, tutting at the lot of them. The flash of your watch caught your eye, and you figured you needed to get out of here soon. You _were_ going to terrorize the entire class, but the skeleton had monopolized your attention. Instead, you turned on your heel, stopping at Marks before you exited. “31 laps around the station before the days’ done.”

                You didn’t bother to stay for the reactions- they were always the same. No recruit ever had a full tour of the main station; they never expected it to be as big as it was. You remembered having to do it yourself; the weak-willed ones would be out within the month. You trekked back to your office, finally bringing yourself to fill out those papers you’d been neglecting.

                Before you even realized it, you heard the sound of footsteps outside your window. You looked up from your work to watch them all pass; and surprisingly, the skeleton was the one leading the charge. It was then you questioned how that actually worked; sure he was a monster, but he was still a _skeleton_. How did he move without a muscular system? And could he feel without a nervous system? Did skeleton monsters even have a brain? You pulled out your personal phone to do a rudimentary google search, but turned up mostly empty-handed. What kind of answer was ‘it’s magic’? It was probably true, but that didn’t quell your curiosity any.

                Either way, you kept an ear out for the recruits, and even started a tally in the corner of your notebook. You couldn’t help but notice how that skeleton seemed perfectly fine, every time he passed. Of course, that just brought up a whole other round of questions- can one even get fatigued without muscles? How do you sweat without skin? What even _were_ monsters… Questions aside, you were in awe of the monster’s energy. When you’d begun, you’d dropped out at lap 22 and had spent the rest of the time either vomiting or hacking up your lungs- and back then, it’d only been 28 laps; the tradition of adding one lap on with each new class always _was_ amusing to the higher ups. Now that you didn’t have to do it, it was amusing to you, too, of course.

                You sighed, shaking your head of the thought- even if it was a good distraction, you still had work to do. The longer you stared out that window, the more thoughts flooded into you; thoughts of home. Thoughts of Casey. You bit your lip, forcing yourself back into your paperwork, the words of every case overriding whatever memories threatened to surface. The hour had come and gone before a booming knock rang out against the door, causing you to tense in your seat and your hand hovered defensively over your waist. You chastised yourself for old habits before straightening out your papers and standing to get the door. You blinked unemotionally up at the skeleton- you honestly _wanted_ to be surprised, but with how loud his voice was, it only made sense that all of his actions would be in kind.

                “HELLO, MISS CHIEF!” Papyrus bellowed cheerfully, shifting his hands behind his back, “I KNOW THAT YOU SAID TO WAIT IN THE ROOM, BUT YOU WERE FIFTEEN MINUTES LATE! I CAME HERE TO RETRIEVE YOU INSTEAD.” You stared at him for a moment, tilting your head just slightly. How did he even know how to get here? This office was probably one of the furthest and most obscure rooms in the entire building. It took you a few months of walking around with a self-drawn map in order to get its location right. And he got here in fifteen minutes? _How?*_ You cleared your throat, moving your hand back over your chest, keeping your eyes trained on his.

                “Walk with me, cadet.” You took a step out of the room, closing the door roughly behind you. Your fist clenched, but aside from that and the steely look that was ever present on your face, there were no other indications that your heart might as well be trying to escape your chest. Even though he appeared harmless enough while he was leading the charge, you knew that there was no way you could plausibly trust him and his magic. Any moment he could decide to “scare” you, or “teach you” what monsters were capable of and you had to be prepared for that moment. The other officers all knew what happened to Casey- the entire police force was intimately involved in that trial, and monster awareness had been tighter than ever because of it, but it seemed suspicions were starting to fade again. You weren’t naïve enough to forget, however. Even when monsters asked for your help, you kept your guard up and watched them with a critical eye.

                “UM. MISS CHIEF, YOU’VE JUST BEEN STARING AT ME???” Papyrus said, sweating lightly at the scrutiny, “I KNOW I AM VERY HANDSOME BUT-” _That_ shocked you out of your thoughts. Your gaze sharpened, and after you two entered the original classroom, you turned and slammed the door behind him, the sound ringing throughout the silent building. The skeleton jumped at the noise, and stiffened visibly at your glare, but only fiddled with his uniform coat.

                “What are you doing here?” You stood your ground, keeping the space between you distant. You didn’t understand exactly how magic worked, but being as far as your taser allowed you to be was preferable. Papyrus blinked, confusion writing itself all over his skeletal features. What was he doing here? He was doing what he’d always wanted to do- help others, be popular and needed? Isn’t that what everyone wanted? He opened his mouth to relay exactly that, but you just lifted your hand to cut him off. “And I mean _really_. What _exactly_ are you trying to pull?”

                “I AM NOT TRYING TO _PULL_ ANYTHING?” Being on the surface for these past two years taught Papyrus many things, especially about humans. Some were more receptive to his kindness, and some weren’t- not all of them were as friendly as Frisk. He, of course, could befriend them all singlehandedly, but they usually at least let him get a word in before being so… question-y. The rest of the police force had been pretty friendly to him, each smiling and exchanging numbers and agreeing to try his spaghetti sometime- so why were you different? He cleared his nonexistent throat before straightening his posture and putting on his best smile, “LIKE I SAID, I’M GOING TO BE THE BEST POLICEMAN. IT ONLY MAKES SENSE, CONSIDERING MY STATUS AS A ROYAL GUARD.”

                The reminder that he was (maybe) a royal guard once made you nervous- and you didn’t like that feeling of your clenched fist slipping because of the sweat. Nobody should scare you; it was your job to be brave. It’d always been your job, since before becoming a police officer, since before you left home, since the day Casey came home from the hospital. The knowledge that this one monster possibly had more fighting experience than any other you’d ever encountered shouldn’t make you as uncomfortable as it did. But you couldn’t deny biology, and instead swallowed that terror to look him in those deep black eyesockets. “You make it sound like it’s going to be easy. Don’t you know you’re the first monster to ever enroll? Don’t you know how many _people_ quit?”

                Papyrus paused for a moment, seeming to consider what you’d said, “WELL, I CAN BE THE EXAMPLE!” He knew that monsters were seemingly excluded from certain roles, so of course it’d makes sense that _he_ would be the first to go out and try some of the more esteemed ones, right? The best way to inspire others to be their best, is to be your best as well. _He_ knew he could get through this training- even the 31 laps around the building weren’t really a problem for him. All he had to do was convince Miss Chief of it. The room had gone silent, the only sound being the oppressive hum of the single fluorescent bulb lighting the room.

                You just stared. He could be the ‘example’. Just like before, he was being incredibly optimistic, and at the same time respectful. He hadn’t threatened or attacked you (or anyone that you’d heard about so far). Could he really be the example if his behavior was different from other monsters? Monsters, who you’d witnessed, had attacked first? Monsters, who you’d heard, hated humans? Monsters like the one who’d killed Casey? At this point, did it even matter? For a second, your gaze faltered and your eyes dropped to the white tile floor. Even if, by chance, he could be the example, and show what all monsters could achieve, that didn’t mean he would get a pass from you. He wouldn’t slip under your radar just by appearing harmless, and being optimistic, and being hopeful. No. Even if a monster _hadn’t_ killed Casey, even if you _hadn’t_ seen file after file of charges pressed after ‘soul attacks’, and even if you _weren’t_ terrified of his magic, he’d still have to prove himself. Now, he’d just have to prove himself a little harder. “Fine then.” You said after a moment, finding the strength within yourself to look back up at him again. “You’ll be the example.”

                “I’M SO GL-”

“To me.” There was one way to ensure that he couldn’t use his magic on anyone in the academy, and that was to watch him yourself. “If you can be the example, then you should have no issue proving it to me.” You noted that his demeanor didn’t change or falter- he really did truly believe he could get through this training. And he wasn’t even threatened by you in the slightest. You honestly were unable to tell if you were miffed by that or not. “Isn’t that right, cadet?”

                “WELL… YES…?” He didn’t have any idea where you were going with this. He watched you curiously as you backed toward the door, opening it and holding it, gesturing silently with your head for him to exit. He followed the command, looking down at you as he passed.

                “Good. You’ll be reporting to _me_ starting tomorrow.” You walked slightly behind him as the two of you headed toward the station entrance. At first, you’d walked behind him for your own safety, but keeping up with those strides was proving to be a challenge.

                “W-WOWIE… PERSONAL TRAINING BY THE CHIEF OF POLICE…” You wanted to correct him- that it was more like _observation_ by the chief of police, but even you realized how biased that sounded. If it made the skeleton happy, then you wouldn’t correct him. But his naivete wasn’t going to affect your treatment of him; if anything, it meant that you’d drill him even harder. If he wanted to be worth being the _exemplary monster_ he claimed he could be, then he would have to be able to take everything you could throw at him, and then some.

                You made a brief, noncommittal sound of acknowledgement before pushing the door open and standing by to see him out. “Report to me at 5 tomorrow.” You looked down at your watch- noting that it was already 12:39. Well, make that today, you guessed. “Bring your workout clothes.”

                When you glanced back at him, you expected to see him deflated- maybe rethinking his choices, but he was beaming. Was it possible for skeletons to have stars in their eyesockets? Because it seemed that this one did. Monsters are… peculiar. “ALRIGHT MISS CHIEF!” And with on that cheery note, Papyrus strutted from the building and out to his shiny red convertible. For a slight moment, you hesitated, watching him go, lingering even after his car had pulled out the lot.

                The next five hours were spent buried in paperwork, so you’d hardly realized you had nodded off until that unbearably loud knocking shocked you out of your dreamless sleep. You groaned, glancing at the time on your phone, noting it was 5 am on the dot. That monster was nothing short of punctual, at least… Running a hand through your hair, you made a basic attempt to make yourself look presentable- before meeting your new charge at the door. You almost envied how bright eyed and energetic he could be, running off, at the very most, four hours of sleep. Maybe that was another thing about monsters… or maybe specifically skeletons…? A yawn interrupted your thoughts and it was only then that you noticed that he’d been talking this entire time and you had tuned him out. “-WITH A WARM-UP WOULD OF COURSE BE THE MOST EFFICIENT! I THINK WE SHOULD STRIVE FOR 40 THIS TIME!”

                You felt your eye twitch just slightly at the thought of doing anything physical right now. Even if you _were_ capable of 40 laps (which… was questionable), doing so at the start of the morning just seemed like a good way to start the day on the wrong foot. You righted your posture, quietly clearing your throat to ensure you commanded the same level of respect worthy of your title as Chief, and shook your head. “ _Actually_ , cadet, there’s more to being an officer than physical strength.” You headed down the stairs, and stopped at the unassuming brown door before turning to him with a small sigh.

                “OF COURSE! THERE ARE RULES TOO! LIKE EQUALITY AND FAIRNESS!” Papyrus excitedly pushed open the door, only to glance around curiously at all the books and files stacked up in shelves to the ceiling. “AND PAPERS...?” Training for the Royal Guard had always been enjoyable for him- he enjoyed learning about the basics of puzzles, constructing them, and seeing how it all came together. There wasn’t really much in the way of paperwork doing that; his goal was to capture a human, and send them to the Capitol. Though he _could_ have used methods like Undyne’s, he set up parameters for himself, because that’s what he deemed fair. It was what a Royal Guard _should_ do. Looking at all of these papers piled up made him recall that- other than simply trying to protect others- human police were incredibly different than monsters… but that didn’t deter him any!

                You entered after him, pulling out book after book and stacking them on the table. You remembered _your_ time with these books; it was hell, but despite all that stress, being a trainee was one of the best times of your life. It pushed you to do your best, and the feeling that you managed to succeed, and get yourself to where you were now… that thought was almost enough to cheer you up. Reminiscing pushed aside, you leaned against the table, pulling out the chair and gesturing for him to take a seat. “Exactly.” Opening up one of the books, she read the table of contents idly, “Ascension was two years ago, but what do you know about human law enforcement?”

Even growing up, being idly taught about laws and rules, was confusing for you. It wasn’t until you decided that this would be your career path did you really hunker down and learn the nuances. You doubted monsters had anything similar Underground- if puzzles were the only method of enforcement, and for humans who happened to stumble into them, then you doubted he had any knowledge of probable cause, the Miranda Rights, warrants, seizes, proper protocol or anything of the sort. Even the most spacey of teenagers knew that they at _least_ had the right to remain silent. “WELL…” Papyrus shuffled into the seat, fumbling through one of the books, “IT’S ABOUT RIGHT AND WRONG, RIGHT??”

You deadpanned at his statement. He was so naïve that it was literally painful. You rubbed your forehead, in a hopeless attempt to stave off the migraine that was starting to make itself known, “Let’s talk practicality. You get a noise complaint at 8:23pm. You arrive on scene, knock on the door of the offending residence. No one answers. Then what?”

Papyrus scratched his skull, “YOU… ENTER AND ASK THEM TO CONTINUE QUIETLY?”

“Bzzt. **_No_**.” You set down the book, pushing yourself off the table and heading back toward the door, “You can’t enter a premises without the consent of the homeowner or a warrant. What you would’ve done would have been **illegal**. The proper procedure would be going to the home of the one who filed the complaint and have them sign a citation, that proved that they indeed filed a complaint and would like to proceed on pressing charges on the grounds of having their peace disturbed.” You opened the reference room door, tilting your head back slightly, “You may want to follow your impulses and do what’s easiest, but that isn’t always the legal way to do things.”

                “OH.” Papyrus rubbed his neck, staring at the books piled in front of him. Frisk told him that cops helped people, and did the right things. He didn’t think there’d be a _procedure_ to do what was right… He had been so excited to hear that he was able to enroll, and become someone of such high esteem. If he was going to have memorize all of these rules then… “I’LL DO IT!”

                You jumped at his sudden outburst, nearly shielding yourself with the door, before gaining a grip on your panic, and looking toward him again. “What?”

                “I’LL LEARN ALL OF THE RULES! I’LL LEARN _ALL_ THE LAWS! I CAN DO IT!”

…Oh boy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Papyrus knocked on every door in the building until he found yours.
> 
> Also, thanks to everyone that commented and kudo'd and everything, aahhh! I'm screaming. I didn't think anyone would pay any mind to my fanfic, it makes me so happy...


	3. Cease

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Papyrus have a disagreement. Sans is displeased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter! Sansy sans is here, too.

Spending the following days having Papyrus asking you questions wasn’t as tiring as you expected it was going to be. After getting used to his voice, it was mostly just a matter of convincing yourself that he couldn’t- or at least, wouldn’t- try to harm you. To your surprise, he managed to have a pretty firm understanding and grip on procedure once he read over it. You wondered if he was simply unique in this aspect or if all monsters had some sort of improved memory and comprehension. Papyrus was in your shadow for the majority of the day, sometimes running errands for you, sometimes just watching in anticipatory silence, and then bombarding you with questions once the opportunity arose. In the beginning, it was difficult, having someone so willing to speak to you, so open and unafraid, but… however unnerving it was, it was also very… comforting. You hated to admit it, but you’d been drowning yourself in your work to help bury the thoughts of Casey, to help ignore your regrets, anything to quell the guilt. Those thoughts always resurfaced when it was silent, and luckily, Papyrus was anything but.

After a particularly calm work day, you were sitting in your office, sorting through the remainder of your files, when you heard Papyrus messing around with some of your desk drawers. The noise was distracting, but it was something minor now; your eyes didn’t dart up every time he moved, and your pulse didn’t spike each time he spoke. He was simply… there. You kept your gaze focused on the sheets, until the jingling got so loud you couldn’t even focus on your own thoughts. Sighing, you propped your chin up on your fist, pushing your hair back to send an annoyed glower his way, only to be met with large, sparkling eye(sockets) that could only be described as “puppy-dog eyes”. Moving backward just slightly, you tilted your head, “…What are you doing?”

“MISS CHIEF!! THE OTHER TRAINEES SAID THEY BEGAN ATTEMPTING ARRESTING TECHNIQUES YESTERDAY!” Papyrus played with the silver handcuffs, and you noted how they practically looked like toys in his large hands. “N-NOT THAT I’M DISPLEASED WITH _YOUR_ TRAINING, BUT…” Papyrus whined quietly under his breath- at this rate, the other recruits would be more efficient than him! And he couldn’t skip his personal training with Miss Chief- even though he spent a lot of time just sitting and reading, he knew you _needed_ him! No other cadet would be as thorough as he was in the work you handed off to him. But… he did feel a little envious that they were doing more physical training than he was, though…

You steepled your fingers, staring at the skeleton for a long, silent while; of course, it was fair that he’d want to do the same things as the other recruits- he did enroll in the academy, after all. He needed the same experiences as them in order to succeed. And even if you were observing him, you were doing it under the guise of training him _personally_. If he failed any of his exams, that would reflect poorly on you. You supposed that- monster or not- your first student would have to be the class’s valedictorian. Abruptly, you stood up in the middle of whatever sentence Papyrus was rambling through and clicked your tongue, beckoning him with you. You heard the sound of him scrambling to get out his seat- likely knocking his long legs against the desk and knocking his chair over ( _as usual…)_ before scampering up to your side. “ **ARE WE GOING TO DO ARRESTING TECHNIQUES NOW?!** ” Excited ‘Nyeh’s trailed the halls after you two, as you headed to practice room.

Entering the padded training room, you walked to the center of the mats, and folded your arms, looking at the monster expectantly. It was easy to instruct someone the first time, and let them follow a formula repeatedly, but that wasn’t how you learned; situations were fluid and had to be treated as such. Even if he could learn every law and technique in a book, it wouldn’t help him if he didn’t know how to gauge and adapt to situations properly. “Well, what are you waiting for? Arrest me.”

He perked up, straightening his spine, before raising the handcuffs into the air, triumphantly, “I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM GOING TO ARREST YOU! PREPARE YOURSELF!” He took three confident steps toward you, before faltering, pulling at the silver circles rapidly, sweating more and more as he approached, “ANY MOMENT NOW!”  He stared at the contraption, wondering why the circles kept getting smaller and now he couldn’t get them back open again. It was open an appropriate amount when he’d found them in the office, so why was it…? “ANY…” Tug. “…SECOND…” _Tug._ “NOW.” You just watched with a raised brow, wondering if you should actually help him, or just watch him continue to struggle with the things. It was like watching a puppy try to escape from a blanket- you just couldn’t be annoyed when he was trying in earnest. After several minutes of Papyrus practically pulling the handcuffs apart, you decided to finally step in, turn the key and open them up for him. He stared bug-eyed at the handcuffs before pointing at them, almost accusatorily, “I KNEW THAT. I WAS TESTING YOU, HUMAN. MISS CHIEF. YOU PASSED. CONGRATULATIONS.”

Other than the skeptical look you tossed him, you didn’t respond, handing them back off to the trainee. “Now arrest me. Properly.” You held out your hands, watching him closely.

“O-OH, UM. YES. MISS CHIEF! YOU MAINTAIN THE RIGHT TO REMAIN SILENT; ANYTHING YOU SAY CAN AND WILL BE HELD AGAINST YOU IN A COURT OF LAW. YOU ALSO HAVE THE RIGHT TO AN ATTORNEY, AND FOR THEM TO BE PRESENT AT YOUR QUESTIONING. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” You blinked up at him, with a single nod before watching him clasp the cuffs onto your wrist. You raised a brow, but lowered your hands, watching him as he turned his back, “NYEH! MY ARRESTING TECHNIQUE IS SO SUPERIOR, I DIDN’T EVEN NEED TO PRACTICE! I’M A NATURAL, BUT THAT’S TO BE-“ While he was talking, you bowed your head just slightly, grabbing a bobby-pin from your hair and promptly undoing the shackles, and then, without words, kicking the back of his knee in, pulling his arms behind his back and cuffing them. There were no words to describe the sound of surprise that Papyrus made when his face was pressed against the mats.

After a few seconds of his squirming, you finally released your hold on him, stepping back and watching him struggle to settle on his knees. “You arrested me. Good job.” You said flatly, folding your arms, “What do you do now?”

Papyrus yanked at the cuffs behind his back, unable to slip his hands free, “BUT…? THAT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN??” He looked up, “HOW DID YOU…?? WHY DID YOU…?”

“What do you mean, _why_?” You folded your arms, but made no other move to help him out of the cuffs. “You arrested me, but do you think everyone is going to come quietly? The world is full of dangerous people, cadet. Bad people.”

“…I DON’T AGREE WITH THAT.” Papyrus said sternly, “I BELIEVE _EVERYONE_ CAN BE BETTER. THERE’S GOOD WITHIN EVERYONE, SOMEWHERE.”

You felt your hand twitch, but just opted to stare at him. “No. There isn’t.” You said blankly. If people were inherently good, your brother wouldn’t be dead due to scare tactics, would he? If people were _all_ good, then there wouldn’t have been a need to become a cop, would there? “Don’t be naïve.”

“I’M _NOT_.” The skeleton insisted, much to your chagrin. “MISS CHIEF, DON’T _YOU_ BELIEVE THAT? HOW CAN YOU BE A COP WITHOUT BELIEVING IN THE BEST IN PEOPLE?”

You almost cringed at his words. “I’m a cop _because_ I don’t see the best in people. I’ve seen the worst of _everyone_. And if _you_ can’t see it, then maybe you don’t belong here.”

“MISS CHIEF. TWO YEARS AGO, BEFORE THE BARRIER WAS BROKEN, FRISK THE HUMAN FELL INTO THE UNDERGROUND.” You locked her legs, watching him coldly from above. You clenched your fist, readying yourself for an attack you knew wasn’t coming. “AND THEY WERE TOLD THE ONLY WAY TO GO HOME WAS IF THEIR SOUL WAS POWERFUL ENOUGH TO GET ACROSS.” Papyrus’s gaze fell onto the mats, “EVERYONE IN THE UNDERGROUND BELIEVED IF WE GATHERED ENOUGH HUMAN SOULS, WE COULD FINALLY ESCAPE.” He shook his head, “BUT ANYWAY, THROUGH THEIR TRAVELS, FRISK NEVER HURT ANYONE. THERE WERE A LOT OF TIMES THEY WERE IN DANGER, BUT THEY NEVER FOUGHT ANYONE. EVEN _I_ FOUGHT FRISK.” There was a warm look in Papyrus’s eyes- as if remembering a young friend or sibling. That happiness just burned you more. “IF IT WASN’T FOR THE BEST IN FRISK, MONSTERS WOULD HAVE NEVER LEFT THE UNDERGROUND. EVEN THOUGH SOME OF US HURT THEM, THEY STILL HELPED US.”

“You can’t use _one_ anecdote as evidence for _all_ people being good.” What was his life, that he could see things in such a positive way? Surely people must have hurt him, at some point. There had to have been bad things that happened. He couldn’t be this optimistic purely because he was sheltered. “Maybe _you_ have good inside you, but I know for a fact, not everyone does. You said it yourself. _You’re_ the example. You’re the best that’s possible, and you’re still a _monster_ who fought a defenseless child.”

Papyrus stared up at you, skeletal (eyebrows?) furrowed at your statement. He’d never had such an accusatory statement thrown at him. Sure, he fought Frisk, but he had to, to capture them! Which he didn’t even do! He didn’t think it was strange; _everyone_ fought Frisk. It was… just how monsters did things? It was a necessity! Their magic _required_ expenditure, no monster could help their biology, right? It was… just what they were? “MISS CHIEF… I THINK YOU’RE MISUNDERSTANDING.”

“I’m _not_ misunderstanding.” Casey’s pallid face rendered itself into your memory- the explanation the coroner gave- that essentially, his _soul_ gave out. “What excuse do you, or _any_ monster have for harming a child who showed no intent to harm you? Is that what _good_ people do?” You kept your eyes trained on him, “ _Humans_ might hurt each other, but we’re under no delusions that we’re all _good._ Not all of us are innocent. Not all of us are faultless.”

“MISS CHIEF, WE FOUGHT FRISK BECAUSE IT WAS THE ONLY WAY TO ESCAPE THE BARRIER. I DIDN’T WANT TO HURT THEM.”

“You didn’t. But the rest of the monsters? You _honestly_ believe there was no intent there?” You saw the skeleton falter- of course he would. It made sense. There was no doubt that there was intent; if all the reports you’d ever seen were anything to go by. Even walking around on your rare time off, you’d occasionally stumble onto ‘Death to Humans’ graffiti, nearly as often as you’d seen ‘Monsters Get Buried”. It wasn’t just one way. There were monsters you’d met that were just as weary toward you, as you were toward them. This integration had not been seamless- and him implying that it was, that it was all okay just because _he specifically_ lacked any ill-will was just insulting.

“I… THINK THE OTHER MONSTERS WERE JUST DESPERATE, MISS CHIEF. I DON’T THINK THAT THEY WANTED To actually…” Papyrus’s usually confident voice trailed off as he thought about Undyne. When he thought about King Asgore, and that hope that everyone felt when he announced human genocide, once they escaped the barrier. In retrospect, it hadn’t happened, but the thought of killing humans is what kept many of the monsters going, wasn’t it? Even if it wasn’t what really occurred, it… did sound bad.

You stared at each other in silence, until you just sighed, and circled around to release him from the cuffs. Even if it wasn’t his fault, releasing some of that pent-up frustration on him was cathartic.  After he got back onto his feet, you looked down at the handcuffs, and handed them off to him before exiting the room. Papyrus followed after you, quietly clicking the silver rings, seeming to be sorting through his thoughts. Had he been wrong to assume the best in people? Well, of course not, the Great Papyrus was never wrong, but… it was hard to argue against your logic, when Asgore himself had six other human souls. Mulling over his thoughts, he only paused when they came to your office door, and you hadn’t gone in yet.

“Just go.” You said, pausing with your hand on the doorknob. “We’ll practice again tomorrow.”

                Papyrus hesitated.  He knew that look. He recognized it. It was just so… _wounded_. He couldn’t quite pick out what it was that had done this to you, but leaving it to fester was probably just as bad as being the one to do it. “MISS CHIEF…” A defeated sigh in response. “I KNOW WHAT YOU SAID, BUT… I STILL THINK THERE’S GOOD IN EVERYONE. I JUST THINK SOMETIMES BAD THINGS HAPPEN. JUST BECAUSE SOMEONE MAKES BAD CHOICES DOESN’T MEAN THAT THEY CAN’T START OVER AND DO BETTER.” You looked over your shoulder, noting the genuine concern in the skeleton’s eyes. What did you do to deserve _that_ look of pity? You’d made it an imperative note to never let anyone see you at your worst, to never let _anyone_ look at you like that. How could you be a Chief if your subordinates were pitying you? “SOME MONSTERS HURT FRISK, BUT BECAUSE THEY SHOWED US THEIR BEST, THEY’RE STILL ALIVE AND WE’RE NOW FREE. SOME OF US WERE MISGUIDED BUT FRISK BELIEVED WE WERE WORTH IT.” He wringed his gloved hands together, searching for a way to sum up his moral, “WELL, I GUESS WHAT I’M SAYING IS THAT, AS POLICE, WE SHOULD SEE THE BEST IN PEOPLE, AND THEY’D BE INSPIRED TO _BE_ THEIR BEST. IT’S NEVER TOO LATE TO CHANGE.”

                Your grip on the doorknob was becoming unbearably painful. You wanted to believe that. Really. But you’d been around long enough and seen enough of people to have that view of the world snatched away and trampled on before your very eyes. But he believed it. You didn’t know what the world looked like through his eyes, but you envied it. You’d thrown examples at him, turned his own logic against him, and he was still firm in his beliefs. It probably wouldn’t matter what you said to him, he was just… an optimist. And you hated it. How dare his world be complete, and good, and pure? What did he do to deserve it, that Casey didn’t do? Sure, you could understand _you_ being flawed, and deserving of this world view, but Casey didn’t even get to live long enough to have a career, or go to his senior prom or get a car… Casey would never get to be his best, despite the mistakes he made. It was _too late_ for him.

                But how could you say that to him?

                All there was for a long time was silence before you turned back to the door, opening it, and heading inside. “Go home.” You immediately shut the door behind you, keeping your back pressed against it until the sound of Papyrus’s steps receded down the hallway. Only then, when you were alone again, did you become aware of the tears streaming down your cheeks.

\------------

                At home, Papyrus entered the house, hanging his uniform jacket up on the hook, entering to see his brother sleeping on the couch- as usual. “HELLO, SANS, I’M HOME.” The shorter skeleton barely roused from his sleep, muttering a greeting before turning over and continuing to snooze. Papyrus watched him thoughtfully before walking over to him, lifting him up, and settling down with to him on the couch. He was glad his brother was relaxing, and happy, but he remembered how he seemed so stressed while they were Underground. He hid it, with jokes and smiles and his easygoing attitude, but something had always bothered him. He didn’t see it so much anymore within him, but occasionally, that look would find its way back onto his skull, when he thought Papyrus wasn’t watching. It was that same wounded look that the Chief had, and he had no idea what had caused either of them to have it.

                The television flickered, lighting the room, and the soft sounds of whatever Mettaton drama kept the room alive as the two sat together. “…HEY, SANS?” Papyrus shook his brother lightly, watching his eyesockets open and his dazed eyelights focus on him.

                “yeah, bro?” Sans slurred, using a few of the moments before he spoke to wake himself up. Now that he thought about it, Papyrus usually wasn’t home this early. What was he doing here? Shouldn’t he be at the academy? Well, he suppose he couldn’t really complain about spending time with Papyrus. As much as he protected him, he knew Papyrus was an adult and could manage his own time (heck, he could probably manage time better than Sans himself could).

                “WHAT WOULD IT TAKE FOR YOU TO GIVE UP ON EVERYONE?”

                At that question, Sans’ eyelights shrunk, practically disappearing, leaving his eyesockets empty and void. He hadn’t thought about _that_ in two years. The nightmares and memories came back sometimes, but the kid proved themselves, didn’t they? He could trust Frisk, couldn’t he? He didn’t need to give up anymore, to quit on life and everything in it? _Right?_ He was… getting better, wasn’t he…? Why was Papyrus asking him this? He had taken special care to never show Papyrus when he was feeling broken, never give him an inkling that _maybe_ his brother wouldn’t be around when he needed him. He had _never_ said anything about the timelines, about what happened in any of them, about what he saw. And he never would.

                                                                                **E v e r .**

“heh. what are you doin’ asking a question like that, papyrus?” Sans said after a moment, closing his eyesockets once more and relaxing against his awesome brother. Or, attempting to, at least. This conversation made his spine feel rigid and he just wanted to go anywhere else, _do_ anything else. He loved Papyrus more than anything- he was literally the only reason he could keep going. How was he supposed to say ‘i gave up on everything a long time ago.’? No, it was because he loved him so much that he wouldn’t tell him the truth.

Papyrus had expected that answer. He’d long since got used to the deflection when asking Sans about his feelings. He wasn’t hurt, or offended- it was how Sans dealt with things, and it always had been. He never blamed him for it. “I WAS JUST WONDERING.” The taller brother patted his head before finally standing up, lifting his lazy brother along with him. “TIME FOR BED, LAZY BONES! YOU CAN’T FALL ASLEEP ON THE COUCH AGAIN.”

“what can i say bro? the couch is just sofa-king comfortable.”  
“LANGUAGE SANS! ALSO YOU’RE THE ABSOLUTE **_WORST_**.”

“i love you, too, bro.”

\----------

                Back at your home, the silence was oppressive, as usual, but you’d found something new today. A letter, addressed to Casey. You stared at it, before heading into his room, and leaving it on the dusty, unchanged desk. One look around the room made your lungs feel like exploding and your eyes burn. You ran out of the room, slamming the door shut behind you.

                You laid your face on the island counter in the kitchen. Wasn’t it supposed to get easier with time?

 

The next day was agony, but you knew the world wouldn’t stop for you, or anyone else. You were in yur office early, as usual, when the doorknob turned, slowly being pushed open, and you were greeted by the face of Papyrus, looking apprehensive, if anything. His discomfort made _you_ uncomfortable, but you figured it was easier on the both of you if you didn’t mention it. “GOOD MORNING, MISS CHIEF.” Papyrus slunk into the room, reaching behind his back and pulling out the handcuffs he’d kept yesterday. “THE OTHER RECRUITS ARE LEARNING COMBATIVES TODAY!” He placed them on the table, “IF YOU’RE BUSY I COULD TRAIN-”

“No, I’ll do it. Get changed.”

“-WITH THEM INSTEA- **WHAT? _REALLY??_** ” His eyes sparkled, and you wondered for a moment why this would make him so happy. Did he just get attached to everyone who entered his life? He really was like a puppy. You were nothing but hard on him, critical even when you didn’t need to be, and he somehow… still looked forward to seeing you. You put your hand over your chest, clutching the fabric there just slightly.

                “Really. Get going.”

                You hadn’t done combat in a while, it hadn’t really been required since you became Chief, but the muscle memory never really left. After stretching, Papyrus came in with what seemed to be a modded version of the workout uniform with a bold “JOGBOY” written across the front. You rolled your eyes slightly but couldn’t bring yourself to be annoyed. It was fitting for him.  “WOWIE! I DON’T THINK I’VE EVER DONE HUMAN FIGHTING BEFORE!”

                You felt yourself tense, but figured he understood well enough- _human combat._ You shouldn’t be concerned- and even so, if there was anything you’d learned over this past week it was that Papyrus was harmless. Capable, but harmless. You had no reason to be worried. He didn’t want to hurt the child who’d fallen, and he wouldn’t want to harm you, either. You had no reason to be anxious. Even as you reasoned that to yourself, the tremor in your hand only grew more prominent. “Right. So the goal is to pacify, not necessarily harm.” You tilted your head, observing Papyrus’s legs, and then meeting his eyesockets once more. “Do you remember how I did that yesterday?”

                “OF COURSE!” Papyrus approached cautiously, circling around, “YOU JUST…” He reached down, hesitantly grabbing your arms, “AND THEN YOU…” He brought his patella up into the back of your knee, forcing you down to the ground. Shocked, he went down with you, and quickly removed his hands, “THAT WAS RIGHT?? RIGHT?”

                You tilted your head back, “That’s right.” You shimmied out from underneath him, noting how easy it was to move him. Despite how tall he was, Papyrus was incredibly light- almost like you were moving a box around or something. Were all monsters this light, or was it just because he was a skeleton? “But you’re too… timid.” You stood back up, “I understand being apprehensive because I’m your superior, but not everyone is going to sit still. Try again.”

                After getting on his feet, Papyrus approached once again, but this time, you took a step back every time he was within arm’s length. Papyrus was predictable; had little tells every time he made a move. The way he looked to his right, and would pause. All of his actions were loud and obvious, but you didn’t really expect anything different from him. After a few minutes of their game of cat and mouse, you decided to sit still. Papyrus came bounding forward arms outstretched, and you immediately ducked out his path, watching as he fell onto the mat. “MISS CHIEF!!” He folded his arms, “CAN YOU QUIT MOVING!?”

                “Afraid not.” You put your hand on your hip, “Keep trying.”

Papyrus paused for a moment, seeming to get an idea before getting to his feet once again, “OKAY!” He approached once again, and, as before, you stepped to the side, but for a moment, you felt a heaviness in your chest, and was forced to the ground. You barely had time to yelp before Papyrus grabbed your arms, keeping you pinned to the ground. “GOT YOU!”

                You felt the heaviness dissipate, and all you were left with was terror and panic. You’d never felt anything like that in your life; it was like your entire being had been enveloped and forced to the ground. Like… gravity suddenly increased on you. You yanked your arm from his grasp, flipping him off of you and keeping hir pelvis pinned with your knee, forcing your forearm underneath his jaw.

“ ** _Never_ use your magic on me again.** ”

                Papyrus, perhaps from surprised, due to his lack of a throat, gasped, before nodding quickly. You stared at him, searching his eyesockets for any semblance of danger or malice, and still found none. He seemed shocked, if nothing else, maybe a little frightened himself. But your heart was racing, trying to escape your chest. You’d never known how caged animals felt, but for that moment, when you couldn’t move, and your mind jumped from Casey, to every single report you’d ever read, you had a slight taste of what it felt like to be truly mortified. “M-MISS CHIEF, CAN YOU PLEASE GET OFF…?”

At his weak request, yu finally stood, slowly, as if watching for any other movement. You nearly collapsed once again when you were back on your feet, your legs were shaking so much. You backed away toward the door, unsure if you should dismiss him, or simply leave- if you spoke now, you knew your voice would shake. He’d see how terrified of him you really were. “MISS… YOU’RE…?” Papyrus gestured to his eyesockets, and for the first time since you stood up, you realized you were crying. You felt your face go red, and as soon as you took a breath to respond, your voice came out as a sob. Startled at yourself, you turned tail and left the room, running back to your office. Once the door was locked and you were safely underneath your desk, you let yourself cry. You weren’t some teenager, it was ridiculous how panicked you felt. How could you let yourself sob this way? In your office? The _Chief’s office!_ You’d gone through trainings, combatives, seen crime scenes that’d make the most hardened cops cringe, quelled riots, risked your life, and only _now_ you were crying?!

The knock at the door was familiar, as was the rattle of the doorknob. “MISS CHIEF? MISS (Y/N)?” Papyrus could be heard clearly from the other side, yet all you could do was curl up tighter. He’d never made someone cry like that*- and he wasn’t entirely sure why his magic had upset you so much. Most people were pretty excited when they had magic used on them for the first time… “I’M REALLY SORRY, MISS (Y/N), I DIDN’T THINK THAT…” He paused, thinking of what it did exactly. You seemed angry, the way your tone sharpened and that absolutely searing glare, but he wasn’t entirely sure why it’d warrant that reaction. “…THAT IT’D UPSET YOU. PLEASE OPEN THE DOOR.” Papyrus rubbed absently at his jaw, putting his other hand on the door.

After twenty fruitless and painfully silent minutes, Papyrus decided he’d apologize rightfully tomorrow, when you opened the door. You couldn’t stay locked in there forever… and after you opened it up, you’d see that it was an honest mistake, right? Maybe he could even explain his magic to you…?

He had never felt so guilty in his life. It didn’t go away when he left the building, and it didn’t disappear when he got into his car, and it didn’t fade when he entered his house. Not even looking at Sans sleeping peacefully on the couch made him feel any better. He stood in the doorway, debating waking his brother up and asking for advice, or just waiting until tomorrow to see if anything improved. His heart won out.

“SANS!” He practically catapulted onto the couch, hugging his brother tightly to his ribcage. The chubby skeleton awoke, startled, but happy to see his brother as usual—until he heard the distress in his voice. That sobered him immediately, he sat up, patting Papyrus’s skull.

“what’s wrong?” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Papyrus so upset. Like, _truly_ upset. Papyrus felt everything intensely, but everything always passed relatively quickly. He could tell immediately that whatever was on his mind was important and needed to be rectified immediately. Looking at him, he suddenly noticed the light orange spot on the underside of Papyrus’s jaw. He was _bruised? Who had hurt him?_

Sans listened dutifully to Papyrus’s tearful explanation, and tried to maintain the way his magic flared. He couldn’t worry Pap anymore… He’d been happy for his brother when he got to work with the Chief of Police- it sounded like an honor and it’d help him accomplish everything he’d ever dreamed, but he didn’t care who it was- no one was going to hurt his brother. **Nobody.**

After Papyrus had cried himself to sleep, Sans pulled up the blanket and made his way out the door. The office was far away, but reading the directory helped him out a lot. The halls were silent, devoid of presence. Calm. When he found the door he was looking for, he knocked once, but when no answer came, he decided to go right on in anyway. He pushed the door open, unsurprised to find you reading over some papers. “hey there, buddy.” Sans closed the door behind him, and put on his best easygoing smile when you looked up at him.

You observed the monster for a moment- another skeleton. Probably related to Papyrus, then. “I’m not sure how you got back here, but please leave.” You sighed, keeping your palm pressed against your cheek.

“in a sec.” He leaned against your desk, pushing your paperwork onto the floor, “let’s talk for a minute.” You watched the papers flutter to the floor, a crease in your brow the only thing displaying your annoyance. You opened your mouth to speak, but Sans just raised his hand, “don’t bother.” You just stared at each other, and Sans’s eyelights began shrinking once again. “look, kid. i know you’re the chief of police and all. real cool. and thanks for training papyrus too. my brother really seems to like you.” You sat up, folding your arms slightly, doing your best to alleviate the pin pricks going up your spine. “i don’t really care that you train him. i don’t care who you are. i don’t care who you _think_ you are.” You barely had the time to react to the way his eye began glowing, before your back abruptly met the wall behind you, the impact rattling the walls, and the ringing in your ears nearly drowning out his words, “if you touch my brother again,”

                                                                “ **i w i l l e n d y o u .** ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Well, except that time he made Frisk cry when he told them he didn't like them romantically.
> 
> Well, here we are with chapter 3! Also, I'm not sure what's up, but like, last time I updated this, it said it didn't update and like?? That made me totally sad because how are people who didn't bookmark or subscribe supposed to see the story if it doesn't update? I hope it works this time... as for people who are subscribed, I'm totally sorry if you get multiple notifications for me trying to get it to notify.
> 
> ***???? IS THIS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BE SHADOW BANNED? THIS IS HORRIFIC.


	4. And Desist!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You call out the judge, and also make a deal with Papyrus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Schedule? What schedule? The god uploads when the god wants. Be it 12 on a school night, or on a Saturday.

 

When his magic faded, you leaned against the wall, sliding down and resting on the floor, doing your best to keep your breathing steady. You couldn’t even bring yourself to panic again- Papyrus had expended all of that hours ago. You’d been mentally recovering, spending more of your time crying sporadically than actually doing any paperwork, but at this point, what was there even to lose? You found that, no matter how much you tried to stabilize your breaths, they continued coming in bursts. More rapidly until all that escaped you were nothing more than soundless laughs. You’d made the same threat to the monster who’d killed your brother. And you hadn’t done shit to him. Was it that you were more honorable, or were you just _that_ pathetic at being a sister?

                “Will you? Will you _really?_ ” You didn’t move from your spot on the ground, instead staring down the skeleton who watched you from the opposite side of your desk. You felt the pinpricks down your spine grow into something larger, something unbearable and sharp, scraping up and down your back until you raised your shoulder in a half-hearted attempt to get rid of it.

                “do you really think i _can’t?_ ” Sans’s voice resonated in your soul, something you heard both physically and internally, a vibration that seemed to penetrate you from the inside, tiny needles embedding themselves in your soul, one after the other. And it made your blood run cold. This was a true monster. One with a voice that’d plague your nightmares, and make you wake up in a cold sweat.

                “I know you can,” You planted your hand on the ground at your side, “But you **_won’t_.”** You didn’t struggle to stand- it would’ve just undermined your point, but you didn’t miss that way he stiffened at your accusation. That little indication, you knew you had him. You two were the same.

                “and what makes you think that?” His eye lit up, and that heaviness in your soul returned, but you didn’t bother fighting against it as he lifted you. He felt his phalanges twitch, repressed memories finding their way back through unpleasant sensations, numbness, that which he’d learned to ignore. He shoved one of his hands into his pocket, using the other to keep you up. He had to restrain himself from throwing you against the walls repeatedly- he wasn’t dealing with the kid, here. But the memory of old repetitions he’d never done nagged at him, almost painfully.

                “You would’ve done it already.” Was it possible for that smile to look any more strained? You hadn’t thought so, but you supposed it was good for your ego to be proven wrong occasionally. “You still have the opportunity. Go ahead. _Do it._ ” Watching him felt like looking in a mirror. You didn’t like those implications, but it wasn’t inaccurate. He wouldn’t because he couldn’t, just like you didn’t because you _couldn’t._

Each second the clock ticked, the more he proved your point. So, he dropped you. He’d always known what to say when the kid came at him. He’d had timeline after timeline to plan it out, perfect it. He had all the time in the world to think of every outcome, every comeback, every move. He could go all out against the kid because, what was there to lose? He was the last defense, he was the only one who _could_ do it at that point. He watched you brace yourself against the desk, and when he actually _looked_ at your face, it was one he’d never recalled seeing on the kid, something he wasn’t sure how to identify. And that made him uneasy.

When you’d righted yourself, you stood up straight, looking down at the skeleton monster- he’d never seen a human switch emotion so quickly; that previous look was gone, now replaced with a frigid wall, a face that was the embodiment of contempt and scorn. “You _say_ you’re going to protect him. But that’s all it is, isn’t it? Talk.” You advanced on him, “But talk all you want. You won’t _do_ anything until it’s too late, will you? Until there’s _nothing left_ to prevent and _nothing left_ to protect.” Your cold gaze bore down into his eyelights, past his façade, and into his very soul. “If you’re going to kill me. _Do it._ Protect him while he’s **still alive**.”

He froze.

Those words hit him, and hit him _hard._ Those memories- or were they visions- the _timelines_ , whatever they were- he’d never stopped the kid before they dusted Papyrus. He threatened them, _repeatedly_ , and he still had to watch them decapitate his brother, and watch his body turn to dust. Watch it mix with the snow, and watch it coat the hands of his murder. He could have protected him. He _should have_ protected him. All he’d done was talk. He watched every monster in the Underground get bludgeoned to death by a child that he likely had the power to stop. He’d known the entire time what was going to happen, what they were going to do. And he watched.

“Thought so.” You mumbled softly before pulling his bony hands out of his pockets, gently putting them behind his back. He made no resistance, and judging by that thousand-yard stare, he wasn’t going to, either. All it took was a slight push forward to maneuver him out of the room and toward the holding cells. After getting him behind the bars, you went behind a desk and began writing out a citation for assault; though the process seemed long and tedious, if nothing else. You glanced up, making sure that the blue-clad skeleton was still there, “Hey.” You snapped at him, “Tell me your name.”

Seemingly shocked out of his stupor, he stepped back, observing the cell he was placed in, “like i’m doing that.” He hadn’t heard much about human laws, other than from Papyrus, but he really, _really,_ had no desire to learn. Especially this way.

You rolled your eyes, “Look, you’re getting booked for assault either way, so just cooperate, or I’ll call your _brother_ and tell him you’re here.” Again, with that leverage bullshit. You didn’t know why monsters kept trying to pull it with you, but you’d be damned if you’d let _this_ one do it. “Make your choice. And do it fast. I don’t have time to sit here and watch you.”

Sans watched you carefully, maintaining his right to remain silent, as Papyrus had so kindly taught him. After a long minute, you sighed, moving across the room and to the phone. When you’d opened up your personal phone to retrieve his number, Sans took that moment to shortcut back home. There, he found Papyrus asleep, just as he’d left him and he debated actually answering the phone when it rang or just head into his room and pretend to be asleep.

He watched the phone light up, and made a move to answer it. Then he promptly realized that his hands were cuffed behind his back. He pulled at them, making a valiant effort to slip his out of the rings to no avail. Well, he hadn’t considered this outcome. He sped off to his room before Papyrus could wake up and see him standing there, or worse, ask about the handcuffs. He wracked his mind for an excuse to how they got there, and how to get them off. He stayed quiet, listening out for the tell-tale sign of Papyrus answering his phone.

The phone rang once, twice, thrice… and then it stopped. He sat down on his bed, waiting for Papyrus’s voice to bleed through the walls, but it never came. He heard him shuffle, like he woke up to check his phone, but otherwise, there was only silence. He laid back on his bed, getting underneath the blankets after several minutes of struggling with them. He’d figure out the handcuff issue in the morning. Right now, he just wanted to sleep until the memory of your accusations faded along with the rest of them.

Back at the station, imagine your surprise when the skeleton that had assaulted you had just up and vanished. One minute he was there, the next he just wasn’t. You never recalled seeing monsters who could _disappear_ , but you wouldn’t rule it out. It would make arresting protocols much more difficult if they could all do that… You sighed, setting the phone down, and looking at the citation scribbled out on the desk. Unable to bring yourself to toss it, you instead picked up the paper and returned to your office; today had been a very… tiresome day.

It was only when you’d returned to your office and sat down did you become acutely aware of how your head ached. You were used to ignoring pain, working through it until your body either quit on you or the ailment faded away into nothing but this was beyond your typical migraines. Your gaze drifted toward the wall that you’d been shoved against not too long ago, and you felt a twisting sense of nausea settle in the pit of your stomach. You’d had _two_ monsters use their magic on you in one day, and you’d miraculously survived both, yet Casey didn’t? You couldn’t decide if you were lucky or if you regretted not goading him harder. With the thought, your vision blurred, and for a minute, you thought you’d started crying again, but when you moved to wipe your eyes, you were shocked to find the heel of your palm was completely dry.

 

The morning light had begun streaming in once the thought of gathering your papers off the floor had even crossed you. All you could do was hold onto the citation you’d written like your life depended on it. All you had to do was be patient, wait for Papyrus to come in, like he had the previous days. It’d be any minute now. Everything was going to be okay.

Those thoughts were the sole thing keeping you awake- all of the adrenaline in your body had long since faded, and your will was fading with it. Your body was running on pure spite. You had every reason to get rid of him, now. His brother was a menace. All monsters were a danger. They didn’t belong here, they would kill all humans the first chance they got, and you had to protect Ebott from them. It was the only thing you had left. If you didn’t act, this would just be another thing that would eat away at you until you keeled over from all the stress. You couldn’t take any more of those; as competent as Papyrus was, this had to be done. He was simply too big of a risk.

You almost missed the loud knock on the door due to the pounding going on in your skull; the noise made you cringe, clutching at your stomach in a desperate attempt to settle your unease. “In.” You hissed, doing your best to appear as steady as you did daily, but the pain only made you more irritable. Through the door Papyrus came, head hung lower than usual. He was clearly being cautious, keeping his movements slow, and staying closer to the door, rather than right up to your desk like he typically did.

“GOOD MORNING MISS CHIEF...” He tapped his foot quietly, and the percussion just made you dizzy, but instead of snapping at him, you just put your hand on your forehead, hoping it would alleviate some of the pain in the time it took you to plan out what you were going to say to him. At your silence, Papyrus cleared his non-existent throat before deciding to just jump right in, “I WANTED TO APOLOGIZE FOR YESTERDAY! I KNOW I SUCCEEDED IN DOING WHAT YOU ASKED OF ME BUT YOU SE-”

“Stop talking.” You stood up, using the desk as a brace. “You’re too loud. Just listen.” You took a breath, sliding the citation across the desk at him, “Your brother. The short one. His name.”

Papyrus blinked at the piece of paper, picking it up and reading over the report cautiously, “W-WHAT? MISS CHIEF, YOU _HAVE_ TO BE MISTAKEN. MY BROTHER-”

“Was here last night.” You gestured with your head toward the security camera hanging on the ceiling, though you quickly regretted the action. You clutched the edges of your desk, waiting until your vision returned to keep talking. “And you’re going to give me his name.”

“CHIEF, YOU’RE _WRONG_. SANS _COULDN’T_ HAVE DONE THIS.” Papyrus’s skeletal eyebrows furrowed, staring at the citation, rather than meeting your eyes.

“Sans, huh?” You mumbled to herself. Your patience was never the longest in the first place, but his voice was just too unbearable right now. “Fine. Come on.” You pushed past the tall skeleton, making your way down the hall, a confidence in your step that was undermined a bit when you stumbled. You heard Papyrus not too far behind as you made your way into the security room, left unattended as it usually was. Usually, you’d be annoyed- there was supposed to be at least one person in this room at all times, but in this case, you were thankful for its vacancy. As soon as Papyrus was inside, you closed the door behind him, and made your way through the computer files. You couldn’t recall what time it was last night he came, but you knew that file would be there _somewhere._ You did your best not to cringe, skipping through videos of you crying at your desk (thankfully, all video was muted)- but at this point, you didn’t care if Papyrus saw, or questioned you; it wouldn’t matter in the end, anyway. When you finally got to the correct time, you stood up, allowing Papyrus to view the video himself.

Instead of re-watching what you’d experienced (that migraine was enough reminder, thank you), you watched Papyrus’s face closely, noting the way his sockets widened and watered. The way his gloved hands covered his mouth in shock, the utter disbelief in his eyes. “MISS CHIEF…” He made no arguments, instead, dropping his gaze to the ground. “SANS COULDN’T HAVE… I MEAN… HE DIDN’T WANT TO _HURT_ YOU… HE… COULDN’T HAVE…”

You folded your arms, wishing he wouldn’t use that wobbly cadence on you. He couldn’t argue with the facts; what happened was right there. You had no reason to feel guilty, yet… you did. “He did. You know the law. He _assaulted_ me. Five years. **_And_** he escaped from incarceration. That’s at _least_ another 16 months. Another three years if we’re being realistic. He’s a _felon_.” You tilted your head to look at the skeleton, seeing the luminescent orange tears stream from his eyesockets. You tensed up, but turned your head away. “Stop crying.”

“SANS COULDN’T HAVE DONE THIS!” He sniffled, “HE JUST… HE COULDN’T HAVE…!” Papyrus practically melted into the seat, head against the desk as he cried, “SANS CAN’T GO TO _JAIL!_ HE’S… HE’S THE ONLY BROTHER I HAVE! I COULDN’T… HE Couldn’t…. leave… me…” His voice tailed off, and you forced yourself to strengthen your resolve. Watching him cry invoked memories you’d rather forget. Casey, when father told him to never come home, when he told him he was no child of theirs. When mother told him that they’d only accept him if he stayed “Cassandra” until graduation. When he asked you why he’d been born this way, and why they couldn’t accept something they, themselves had created.

You shook your head of the memory; Papyrus was _not_ Casey. Papyrus would not and _could not_ fill the void, _any void_ within you. He was a monster, just like the one who’d killed your baby brother. He wasn’t worth your sympathy. “Quit crying. I’ll make a deal with you.” 

Papyrus’s sniffles didn’t subside, but it was clear that he was listening, willing to do anything for the sake of his brother. You admired it, really; while you worked very hard to keep Casey out of trouble, he rarely reciprocated. You’d taken on the role of parent, and being taken for granted along with it. You never complained- Casey deserved a good life, but seeing a sibling relationship like that being reciprocated was… admirable. Even if it came from monsters. His silence told you that he was listening, and you pushed your hair away from your face, cringing slightly at the action.

“I won’t press charges if you voluntarily withdraw from the academy.” The words sounded harsh once they were put into the air, but they were there now. You watched him go through several emotions- primarily confusion and hurt, but as soon as he opened his mouth to respond, your eyes just drifted back over to the security screen.

“MISS… BUT… I THOUGHT I WAS DOING GOOD? WHY WOULD YOU WANT ME TO…?” Papyrus’s voice broke, and you hated the way that it hurt you inside. He really had liked you in earnest, he had no malicious intent at all. For a moment, you regretted having doubted him, but the pain spreading through your body quickly put a stop to it.  It didn’t matter if he liked you, it didn’t matter if he was harmless, it didn’t matter if you felt guilty. This was for the good of everyone. Monsters couldn’t be on the Force. They were too dangerous; even one like Papyrus. “I THOUGHT….”

“It’s not personal. You’re just…” You wracked her mind, looking for a politically correct way to say what you were getting at, but the headache made you give up on subtlety. “You’re a _monster_. You’re too dangerous to be here.” You hated the way he looked so crestfallen. It shouldn’t hurt you to look at him. He was a monster, it wasn’t like you wanted to take his dreams away because you were cruel, it was for the greater good. It was because you had to. It was a part of your job description to make hard choices. And this was one of them. It was a necessity. You **_had_** to.

Papyrus was so distraught he couldn’t even bring himself to cry again. All of his hard work? Everything he’d done, this is what it amounted to? He wouldn’t be able to prove that he was valuable, and people wouldn’t love him. He wouldn’t be able to help anyone. He looked inside himself; all the things he worked for and wanted so badly were being snatched away, burned right in front of his eyes. Sure, he could choose something else, but… _this_ was what he wanted. And it was because _he was a monster_? He’d gotten used to hearing the discrimination behind his back, he had practiced facing it with a smile. He worked so hard to give people a better image of, not just himself, but monsters, too. He knew this was discrimination- he could have it countered, if he took it to court, but if he did that- broke the deal- then his brother would go to prison. Sans only had 1 HP, he wouldn’t _survive_ in prison. He’d get dusted the second he walked in the door. He had to protect him…

Even if it was at the expense of his own dreams.

He needed his brother, more than anything else. After sorting through his thoughts, he glanced at you, thankful you’d waited patiently for him to make a choice, rather than snapping at him. Maybe… you didn’t actually want to do this? Maybe it wasn’t that you were really a racist, and wanted to hurt him, but you were genuinely worried about others? He took a breath; he sure hoped so. Clinging on to that thought was the only thing that made him able to finally nod his head. “I…I’LL WITHDRAW…”

You stared at him vacantly, waiting for that sense of satisfaction you always got when things went the right way, but nothing came. You just felt hollow. And perhaps a little light-headed.

 

Your legs buckled almost immediately after he spoke, and he watched, shocked as you collapsed onto the security room floor. He stood up, panicked, gathering you in his arms and looking around. After some struggling, he managed to get the door open, but threw one last look over his shoulder at the computer. He could…

No. He couldn’t.

                He forced the thought from his mind. He made his choice. He could never. He closed the door, hurrying around the building in search of Officer Marks.

                Even though he was upset, he couldn’t bring himself to leave you when he was the only one who definitively knew what happened to you; he was responsible! He listened quietly as he heard Marks discuss with the nurses about possible reasons you had collapsed, and everyone seemed to agree that stress was the cause. Keeping his mouth shut was the hardest thing he’d ever chosen to do. He knew suggesting a head injury would incriminate himself, or worse, Sans, and that would make the choice he made completely pointless. So, he just sat quietly by as they ran tests and checked you. He had to admit, when your eyes were closed and you were curled up, you looked vulnerable. Something helpless, and harmless, and _afraid._ Only through your eyes were those years of experience real. He wouldn’t believe you were the Chief of Police if he’d met you like this.

                After a few hours, Papyrus dismissed himself, leaving you under the watchful eyes of Officer Marks. Even if he wanted to stay, he knew he couldn’t; he had to go back to the station and empty his trainee locker, and fill out his withdrawal forms. He had to say goodbye to all of his friends. He put on his best smile, and exited the hospital.

\----

                When he finally returned home, he had the withdrawal forms tight in his grip; he had filled them out, but couldn’t bring himself to turn them in. He’d do it tomorrow, for sure. He looked around, noting Sans wasn’t sleeping on the couch, and the TV wasn’t on- so Sans was probably in his room, still. He felt his chest tighten; how could Sans do that and not even _tell him_? He stood in the door way, far longer than he had any need to. He’d never felt so lost. He’d never felt so hurt. What was he supposed to do now? What was he supposed to tell Sans?

                Well, he always figured the best way to deal with problems was to talk about them.

“SANS? I’M HOME.” He was shocked at how normal his voice came out, despite how he was feeling. He would’ve been proud, in any other circumstance. He walked over to Sans’s bedroom door, noting the lights were off. He knocked- he always hated going in there, with how messy he kept it- but he decided to enter after a minute anyway. “SANS?”

                From underneath his blankets, Sans stirred, popping his head out from underneath his junkpile of a bed. He still hadn’t figured out his handcuff issue, so he made no move or attempt to get up. “oh. hey, pap. didn’t hear you come in.” Immediately, Sans saw the disappointment on his brother’s face and debated whether he really wanted to ask or not. If anything, shouldn’t he have had a better day? No one would hurt him again…

                Papyrus didn’t even bother trying to pad the talk out with any fluff- it’d only make things more difficult. “SANS, I’M… I’M WITHDRAWING FROM THE ACADEMY.”

…what.

                That was the exact _opposite_ of what was supposed to happen! “…was it the chief? should i talk to-”

“ ** _NO_**.”

 “papyrus, if this is discrimination, then we can get frisk or asgore to-”

“NO, SANS. WE CAN’T.” Papyrus rubbed his skull, “I… I CHOSE TO.” Should he tell Sans what he knew? He knew his brother was secretive, but… this involved the both of them, now. He wanted to yell, ask how he could do this, ask how he didn’t consider how _he_ felt. But now that he was faced with him, so relaxed, he couldn’t. He cared about him so much.

 “ _what?_ i thought you said it was your dream to be an officer? why would you withdraw?” Sans knew that _that woman_ had something to do with this, he just… wasn’t sure what. Papyrus had more willpower than anyone else he knew. He didn’t _quit._ Especially not voluntarily. Something about this was very, _very_ wrong. He watched his brother fidget under his gaze, but the only response to his question was silence. Papyrus was a terrible liar; if he couldn’t answer a question convincingly, he just wouldn’t answer at all. Sans propped himself up on his forearms, unable to push himself all the way up, due to the handcuffs, but enough to get a closer look at his brother. Shifting his tone slightly, he smiled gently at him, in that way he used to do when Papyrus was just a baby bones. “you know you can tell me anything, pap…”

                Papyrus just glanced down at him, a look of pure hurt finally showing itself on his face. “I KNOW, SANS.” He took a shaky breath, “I KNOW.” The room was quiet once more. It was moments like these that Sans missed being Underground. He never had to worry about anything, because he already knew what was going to happen. He knew how to keep his brother in high spirits. But right now? He could say a million things, and he wouldn’t know which one was the _right_ thing to say. Papyrus would always be his brother, without a doubt, but he couldn’t remember the last time he fought with him. Why would he? He’d been recalling several versions of his life for… a long time. He had no clue when it began. Of course, he remembered what was before the resets, but, that all just seemed… unreal. He felt himself chuckle at the thought. His past- his provable, definitely occurred, one-hundred percent real- past is the thing that felt unreal. How sad. “WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?”

                “i just thought of the best joke. so, why do dogs howl at the moon?”

Papyrus deadpanned, but he knew there was no escaping it. This was Sans. He was just making things better in the best way he knew how. He couldn’t fault him for that, he could never fault him for trying. “I DON’T KNOW??”

                “they have _luna_ -tics.”

He would’ve rolled his eyes if he had any. “UGH, SANS!” He groaned, but couldn’t stop himself from smiling, regardless; when his brother smiled, and one of his _real_ smiles- even if it was just for a minute- he had to appreciate the moment. Even if it hurt, and even if he could never get another chance to do something like it again, he knew he made the right choice. He pushed himself off the bed, “WELL, THE SPAGHETTI’S NOT GOING TO MAKE ITSELF!” He walked toward the door with a false pep in his step, “I’LL CALL YOU WHEN IT’S DONE.”

                Sans gave a lazy smile in return, “gotcha. have fun.”

\---

                The next day, Papyrus knew he had to go turn in his withdrawal. He knew the station’s circulation office was near the entrance of the station, but he found himself loitering by the Chief’s office somehow, anyway. If he remembered what the nurses said correctly, then you shouldn’t be doing any work, and _should_ be home resting, if it was exhaustion. Which it wasn’t. But nobody knew that. Habitually, he knocked on the door, waiting for a moment, for the off chance that there really was going to be a response.

                The voice was much quieter than usual, the tone less authoritative and harsh, but unmistakably yours. “Come in.” He hesitated before pushing the door open. He really wasn’t supposed to be back here… but he had to know if you were okay. He supposed you being awake was a good sign- or were you supposed to be sleeping?

                When he entered, he was met with the Chief, but not donned in your typical uniform. You, instead, were clad in a turtleneck sweater, looking more disheveled than he’d ever seen you. “OH… MISS CHIEF, YOU’RE AWAKE. I’M GLAD YOU’RE OKAY!” He didn’t close the door behind himself and he made sure to approach slowly. He noticed that you seemed less aware than you had ever been before.

                And lethargic you were. Everything ached. They’d given you pain medication for your back and head. You knew you were supposed to be in bed- but you felt safer at the station. Though you weren’t technically on-duty, you’d asked Marks to drive you back to the station so you could hang around. Marks only agreed because it meant he could keep a closer eye on you, though gave you the condition that you couldn’t do any actual work. When Papyrus entered your office, you remembered vividly that he wasn’t supposed to be here anymore. Your guilt wouldn’t let _that_ little detail slip away, no matter how many drugs you took, or how much sleep you got. But, you weren’t working, so you had no real authority to send him away, other than the vague suggestion that he shouldn’t be back here. “Thanks.” You sat down in your chair, leaning against the desk, “For yesterday… Marks told me that you helped me…”

                Papyrus smiled at the genuine gratitude; he wished he could see more of that when you were dressed up as Chief. You seemed so much more relaxed. He hadn’t thought it was possible for you to go five minutes without glaring at something. Him, specifically. “YOU’RE WELCOME. I’D STILL HELP YOU EVEN IF…” He trailed off, before shaking his head, “WELL, UM, I JUST WANTED TO CHECK ON YOU.”

                “Thanks. But, my gratitude aside, you really don’t have the authorization to wander back here anymore. I’d ask that you _not do that_ in the future.” You noticed the papers in his hands, and felt yourself squint. Had he come to check if your opinion had changed just because he helped you? As much as you appreciated the help, you wouldn’t have needed it if his brother hadn’t given you a concussion in the first place.

                “RIGHT. UM. I JUST…” He sighed, and your guilt was increased twofold. Now that Papyrus was going to withdraw, you really wouldn’t have anything to spend your time on. Your eyes wandered over your desk, and you sat up slightly.

                “By the way, does your brother have my handcuffs?” You reached into the drawer, removing the key. “If he does, I’ll let you come back one last time to return them to me. Or keep them. Do what you want, I guess. I don’t care.” You handed the skeleton the keys, and he pocketed them. Now that he thought about it, Sans had been staying in his room more. At first, he figured it was guilt, but if his hands were cuffed behind his back, then… he probably _would_ have trouble doing anything else.

                “OH. THANK YOU…?” Now that he was back here, he wasn’t entirely sure what his goal was, aside from verifying that you were still alive. “UM…”

                You glanced up, surprised he was still here. “I’m not going to break my deal. Just turn in your withdrawal form and I won’t press charges on him.” He really was loitering around for a long time after being told to leave. You supposed you could understand, you wished circumstances could be different, but this was simply for the better. It had to be this way. Papyrus opened his mouth, like he wanted to say something, before closing it again with an audible click. After two more times of this, he just nodded sadly and finally left the room.  At this point, you couldn’t even feel relief. Just that same hollow feeling.

                Turning in those papers to the circulation desk was almost as hard as telling his (former) fellow trainees goodbye. He couldn’t tell any of them why, but they had all promised to keep in touch and visit him and hangout sometimes. He was grateful for their kindness. When he returned home, he was so tired he just walked into Sans’s room without bothering to knock. There, he found his brother using various bones in an attempt to get the cuffs off, nearly falling off of his bed when Papyrus had entered unexpectedly.

                Sweating, he gave his taller brother a nervous smile, “oh. hey. i know this question may be a little difficult to answer _off the cuff_ , but do you have any keys _handy_?” He chuckled, but only grew more anxious when Papyrus didn’t even respond. No groan, no declaration of the worst pun ever. Just… silence.

                Papyrus pulled the keys out of his pocket, turning them and removing the cuffs from his brother’s wrists. He didn’t even stay long enough for Sans to ask how he’d got the key.

His eyesockets widened with abject horror when he realized.

_He knew._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and such so far! Really makes me wanna write more, it's so nice. I love you all.


	5. Search

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans faces his mistakes. There's also an integration festival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real quick before work!! Hope you guys like it! I was a little stuck. Lots and lots of Sans sadness.

He looked down at his hands, thankful he could now move his arms freely, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted it at this cost. Papyrus had gone to the station to turn his forms; the only way he could have had any remote idea that he needed a key was by speaking to the person who’d put him in them. And Papyrus was many things, but he wasn’t as clueless as his friends liked to believe. He listened, he saw things, he asked questions. Papyrus just chose what information to act on; he was an optimist by nature.

Sans felt scratching up his spine, and he sat down on the bed, staring at his phalanges. What was he supposed to say to him? He knew he’d been upset about the Chief, but ‘sorry’ just didn’t seem appropriate. He could try to explain himself, but if he did _that_ , then… then he’d have to tell him about the timelines, wouldn’t he? How he’d seen him decapitated without a fight, _die_ with hope still in his eyes, and watch his body fade into dust, and how he had to live without him until _he_ died. He’d have to explain that he was only trying to protect him; he wanted to keep him safe. It was just… the only way he knew to ensure it.

No. He _wasn’t_ telling him about the timelines. He was _not_ going to tell him about how he watched the kid murder everyone they loved mercilessly, repeatedly. He wasn’t going to tell him that he feared the chief would have done the same to him. He just wasn’t going to do it, consequences be damned.

But, shit, he needed to say _something_ to him.

                Maybe he could downplay it- it really wasn’t that bad at all. He only meant to _warn_ her, not _hurt her_. He didn’t want to _kill_ her; she was a human, and a racist one at that, but that alone didn’t warrant her death. He just wanted to make sure she didn’t get any ideas about Papyrus- about hurting him any more than she had. Humans had violent streaks- they couldn’t even coexist with _each other_ , let alone monsters. He only… he only wanted to…

                He clenched his skeletal hand into a ball, recalling the disappointment on Papyrus’s face. There wasn’t any explanation that would make that look go away. Even if Papyrus patted his back and told him he forgave him, there was nothing that would repair his image in his eyes. Papyrus had never really been too approving of violence. Magic, sure, but he had always taken such special care to never hurt Frisk with his magic. And here _he_ was, he couldn’t even imagine what Papyrus must think of him.

                He clutched at the crumpled bedsheets beneath him, unable to muster up the will to leave the room. Not that he was any safer from Papyrus’s judgement in here than he was out there, but at least if he stayed here, he wouldn’t have to look at him. Somehow, without him realizing it, he had made his way over to his closet. He always made it a point to keep the door closed- anything to deter him from going back inside of it, but he’d already disappointed Papyrus- this wouldn’t really change much, would it?

                He slumped to the ground, grabbing one of the bottles he’d kept around for rainy days. He downed half of it in one swig, before finding himself chuckling, “well… it’s raining _somewhere_ , isn’t it…?”

                One. That’s all. He’d only drink the one, like he did when he had Grillby there to limit him, and Papyrus wouldn’t be upset. He just needed to dull the pain, and one would be okay for that. One had always been okay. He always had the one, every time he talked to the kid. He never needed more than that to steady his nerves. One would be enough two…

 _Two?_ No. He’d only started with the one…? He shrugged, it was all one, wasn’t it? It didn’t matter how many bottles they came in. It didn’t matter how much he drank. It was all one life, and they’d all end and start over at a new bottle. _Time._ Bottle. It would all just reset, and start over again, and it wouldn’t matter how many mistakes he made, in the end. He always had tomorrow, when he’d wake up Underground, and listen to the sound of that kid’s feet plodding through the thick snow.

                                                **_D o n ‘ t   y o u  k n o w  h o w  t o  g r e e t  a  n e w  p a l ?_**

                He should have ended it there. He didn’t make promises, and he shouldn’t make promises. They would’ve never escaped the Underground if he’d done that, but wouldn’t that have been better? Nothing he did mattered, anyway. He could have saved him, he could have protected him, he just had to make sure they gave up before he did… But he knew it was futile in the grand scheme of things, and he’d given up before he even tried.

                                                _that’s hilarious._

                His eyesockets drooped shut, and he didn’t fight it. He just had to endure it a little while until he woke back up in Snowdin like he did every time. They promised they’d never reset again- this was the end, this was really where his life began, but that was a lie. Everything would go back to how it was, just like it did every time. He crossed his arm across his sternum, an old reflex to help ward off sharp phantom pains that resurfaced every time he was on the brink of falling asleep. He’d apologize if he was still alive when he woke up.

               

                In the next room over, Papyrus sat at his desk, flipping through the book he’d brought home from the station; he’d have to return this when he went back with the handcuffs, most likely. Turning the pages only served as a distraction for his hands; he was listening. And thinking, but mostly listening. He wasn’t sure what it was he was listening for, whether it was a knock, or Sans’s baritone voice from the other side of the door, but it was unnervingly silent. But should he really have expected anything different?

                Honestly… he did. His entire perception of his brother had just shifted; for most of his life, Sans was completely harmless. He remembered when he used to smile genuinely, when they were young. He used his magic a lot, then. He used to go out to Waterfall and always come back with something new to tell him. Then one day, he just… stopped. He never explicitly asked him why, he just figured he was tired, and he’d be back to the way he used to be in time. He couldn’t ever pinpoint what it was that made his behavior switch, and every time he insinuated he was acting strange, Sans would just deflect it, the way he always did. He stopped asking after a while.

                This, though? This wasn’t the same. The only magic Sans ever used was his shortcuts- and _maybe_ picking something up if it was too high or faraway. But combat magic? He didn’t even think Sans _could_ pick up a person, let alone _throw them_. Well, of course he _could,_ but he didn’t think he _would_. What had even possessed him to do that? Miss Chief didn’t really talk about it, and the video was muted- he could only assume that Sans had gone there to talk about _him_ , and what had happened the previous day, but… why would he hurt her? He huffed, dropping his head into his gloved hands. What was he supposed to do? He could talk to Sans, but he wouldn’t get anything out of his brother until he decided he was ready to talk. _If_ he decided he was ready to talk. He had no reason to go out; his withdrawal from the academy left him without a job. He sank down until his head was against the desk- he made his choice, but he didn’t really think this far ahead. He needed to protect Sans, and he would’ve chosen this again if it came down to it, but… this was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

 

                That morning, Papyrus made the effort to do things as he normally did; but he wasn’t sure if it was the quiet or the total lack of _Sans_ that threw him off pace. He knew Sans couldn’t shut himself up in his room forever, he’d _try,_ but eventually he’d emerge and then he’d have to face him. Papyrus stared out of their kitchen window, he supposed he could go work with Undyne as an assistant personal trainer. She wouldn’t mind and he would still be able to help people… Of course, it lacked the same amount of prestige as being an officer, but… he sighed, dropping that train of thought immediately. Things would get better. They always got better. It was times like this he wondered where his flower friend was; it’d be nice to have the advice right now.

                “uh… hey.” Sans’s voice broke the silence in the kitchen, as laidback as it ever was. Papyrus glanced over his shoulder, but didn’t make the move to face him. He kept his face turned away from him, but straightened his posture to indicate that he was listening. Sans forced himself to take it in stride; if he faltered now, he’d wouldn’t be able to say what he needed to. Not that he’d _thought_ about what he was going to say. It had been more of a reflex- Papyrus was upset, _fix it_. That’s all there was to it… in theory. His reflexes didn’t cover when _he_ was the one that caused the problem. Sans straightened his hoodie, keeping his hand jammed in his pockets as he leaned against the wall. He always felt safe in Papyrus’s shadow, but something about him having his back turned to him was just… not right. He stared at the tile, “i just wanted to apologize…” Quiet. “so… i’m sorry.”

                There. He said it.

                So… why wasn’t he responding…?

“Sans…” Papyrus leaned his elbows against the counter, keeping his eyesockets trained on whatever lied outside the window. “I Know You’re Not _Really_ Going To Answer, But…” He sighed, absently running his phalanges over his carpal bones, “Why Do You Think You Can’t Talk To Me?”

                Sans’s eyesockets widened a fraction before he just closed his eyes, maintaining his cool, despite the sweat he felt starting to trickle down his spine, “of course i can talk to you, papyrus, i-”

                “If You Can Talk To Me, Then Why Didn’t You SAY ANYTHING!?” He slammed his hand on the counter, before whirling around, narrowing his sockets at his brother slightly, “DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND, SANS?” He _knew_ he was going to deflect the question, he _knew_ it, yet it still upset him to hear it. He’d never understand Sans completely, no one would, it was just an aspect of his brother that he had come to accept, but he wouldn’t even let him _try_. “I WOULDN’T HAVE WITHDRAWN IF YOU ONLY _SPOKE TO ME_. YOU CAN’T JUST ACT ALL BY YOURSELF! YOUR ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES, THEY DON’T JUST AFFECT _YOU._ ” He clenched his jaw shut, taking a moment to breathe, and try again. “I… I’m Not _Mad_ At You…” He wished he could just be angry. If that was all it was, then he could just yell until he got his point through and that would be the end of it. Anger was fleeting. For him, at least. He could never stay angry. There was too much to look forward to spend his time being angry. “I Just Need To Understand…”

                Sans’s eyelights fixed on Papyrus. Even if he _did_ break down and explain the timelines, would he even believe him? How plausible did it really sound to someone who’d never heard of resets? Who didn’t know what determination was capable of? And how would it sound, justifying his actions to someone who would never experience what he had? Silence.

                The sound of Papyrus’s sigh was what brought him from the depths of his thoughts. He was breathing. He was alive. Even if Sans couldn’t put it into words, just recognizing he was here with him comforted him a great deal. He copied the action, hoping it would ground him enough to respond, at the very least. “i can’t explain all of it but…” He shrugged, burying himself deeper into the comfort of his worn jacket, “i just wanted to make sure you were being treated right.”

                “…You _Threw Her_ Into A Wall, Sans.” Papyrus folded his arms, and there was that look again. It didn’t matter how many times he pulled at his hood, or how much he tried to shrink away from the look, nothing would ease the scraping down his spine and across his scapula.

                “she _hurt **you**_ , papyrus.” His resolve strengthened. “i couldn’t let her do that to you again. what if she did something worse? what if-”

                “Sans, Do You _Honestly_ Think I Couldn’t Have Stopped Her?”*

                Sans felt his hands shake, and gripping at the insides of his pockets did nothing to alleviate it. _Of course_ he thought that. If he could stop her, then why wouldn’t he have stopped the kid? Why would he have had to gather up his battle body and scarf, and wish he’d wake up from that nightmare? If what Frisk said was true, that they’d never reset again, then he _had_ to protect him. This was the last time he’d ever get to stay with Papyrus, and if he died _here_ , then he’d be alone. For the rest of his life. With no kid to kill him and end his suffering. He wasn’t going to risk that.

                The silence after his question had gone on a little too long. Well, he thought he’d only get information out of his brother by what he was willing to say, but what he wasn’t was equally as pertinent, it seemed. He knew Sans would always worry about him- he worried about Sans in kind; that bond is what had kept them stable growing up, but they had made it this far, didn’t they? He was capable, in his own right. Things were going well. They were safe. So why was Sans worried?

                “…did she make you withdraw?” The question had been nagging at him since he’d told him. He already knew the answer, but he wanted to know for himself.

                “I Already Told You, I Withdrew Voluntarily.” Papyrus’s gaze drifted to the ground. It wasn’t a lie. He had the option of allowing Sans to get charged and continuing with his training, but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to live with himself, knowing Sans was alone in prison. Even if he didn’t get dusted, what if he fell down or…gave up? He felt a pang in his ribcage at the thought. He couldn’t let that happen, not to Sans…

                The fact that he answered at all was telling enough for Sans; he wasn’t lying. “then why did you…?”

                “I Had To.” His voice wavered a bit, but he forced the sentence out regardless. If he didn’t tell Sans the truth, he’d be repeating the mistake that Sans had made. “If I Didn’t… She Said She’d Press Charges On You.” He sighed finally moving from his spot in the center of the kitchen to the table.

                He… withdrew because of what he did? Papyrus had chosen keeping him safe over his dreams? He was the reason his brother was forced to quit doing something he truly loved? The one thing he cherished in this world was suffering because of his actions…?

                It was **his** fault.

 

                He had silently slid across the table from Papyrus, ruminating on that thought, that phrase, ‘ ** _your fault_** ’, over and over. They repeated over and over until the words melted into nothing, just phonetic syllables that multiplied his guilt each time he thought them. Papyrus never outright blamed him, and that just made it worse. Papyrus knew this was his fault. _He_ knew this was his fault, yet Papyrus still chose to say that he quit of his own volition, that this is what he wanted. He didn’t know it was possible to feel nauseous without a tangible stomach. “i… i’m sorry, papyrus…” He choked on his words, but even he realized how underwhelming they truly were.

                “I Know, Sans.” He looked across the table at his brother- he really did seem to feel guilty, but he wasn’t sure if it was for the right reasons. “As I Said, I’m Not _Mad_ At You… I Just Thought You Would’ve Known Better.” It was hard saying this; Sans had always been collected and rational. It was just… really unlike him. The silence was obtrusive once more.

                A knock at the door interrupted the two’s silence, and Papyrus straightened up, a beaming smile donning his face, as if none of this had even just occurred. “I WONDER WHO THAT IS?” He pushed himself up from his seat, striding across the room and toward the front door. When he answered it, he was met with vibrant white fur, and a gentle smile to match. “OH! HELLO, QUEEN TORIEL!” Naturally, his eyes drifted downward, met with the calm countenance of his favorite human child, “AND FRISK TOO!”

                “Good morning, Papyrus. I am pleased to see you are as enthusiastic as ever.” Toriel smiled, “Have you forgotten; today is the Cultural Integration Fair.” The skeleton’s eyes bulged slightly- he _had_ forgotten! He’d been so busy with the academy; the event had slipped his mind entirely. He ushered the two inside, setting them down on the couch.

                “SANS!!” Papyrus turned around, finding Sans sauntering out of the kitchen. Sans caught Toriel’s eye- he’d heard the entire conversation, and he really had no interest in going. But, Papyrus seemed to want to, so he was happy to just settle himself on the couch beside Frisk. “AREN’T YOU GOING TO GET READY?”

                “i’m always ready, bro.” Sans said with a noncommittal shrug, “go ahead, we’ll wait for you.” Papyrus tutted at his lazy brother; he should at least take a shower or change his clothes, but Sans would be Sans. Papyrus hurried back to his room, rushing to find the perfect outfit.

                “Well, Papyrus certainly seems excited, doesn’t he?” Toriel patted Frisk’s head absently, turning her attention to the shorter skeleton. Something was strange today and she couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was. They both were acting normal, but…

                “can you blame him? this fair is going to be inte- _great_.” The goat woman found herself giggling at the pun; maybe she’d imagined it. Sans was making jokes, like always, Papyrus was happy, things were normal…

                “THAT WAS AWFUL, SANS!”

Yes… Things were normal.

 

                The Fair was huge; monsters and humans alike wandered around, wary but curious of each other. Glamburgers, Monster Candy, Hotcats, many staples of the Underground were being vended, and Frisk was ecstatic with the turnout. The first year had been rocky; monsters and humans were openly hostile toward each other. This year, things seemed to be more relaxed; perhaps because most people had finally gotten used to seeing the others around, and it was no longer a cause for alarm.

                Because they were the Ambassador, Frisk stayed put at their booth for the fair, watching people mill back and forth, awkwardly interacting, asking questions. They would’ve liked to go find Monster Kid, but watching by the side of Toriel and Asgore was okay, too. Papyrus _had_ made the resolve to stay with Frisk as well, but there was too much to see. Almost immediately, he dragged Undyne off in a random direction, leaving Sans and Alphys to their own device. They decided on food.

                Sans sat with his ‘dog, observing it more than he made the move to eat it. The day was just too bright; how easy would it have been to just crawl back into bed. At least half of Ebott’s population of both monsters and humans had to be gathered here, and it wasn’t that he minded the crowd, he was just… tired.

                “T-there’s a lot of people here today…” The short dinosaur said after a slurp from her noodles, “I guess i-it’s good that humans are finally accepting us.”

                Sans chuckled dryly at her comment. Were they really? Maybe a small minority was, but the majority was simply _tolerating_ them. Between Asgore’s push for Monster-centric laws and Frisk’s focus on integration, that was all they could do really. These changes were happening too fast for them to be solid. The foundation was wobbling, and it would topple over if they tried to stack any more on top of it. It wasn’t that he didn’t _want_ to be accepted; he did, of course, it was just… he didn’t expect things to happen at this pace. After all, the humans that didn’t just tolerate them were hostile. And if they weren’t either of those, then they saw monsters as a novelty, something to play with and fetishize, and throw away once they were done. They didn’t see them as people; they didn’t recognize that all monsters had lives, and emotions, and goals. All they saw was their appearances. “yeah. frisk did good.”

                He leaned against the table, scanning the crowds, searching for his brother. He knew he wasn’t far, and he wasn’t going to get up, but, he wanted to ensure his safety. His eyelights skimmed over the crowd until they settled on a bright blue. He felt his smile tighten; he recognized _that_ color. How couldn’t he when his brother had been wearing it daily up to this point? But the question was, _why_ were they here? He combed through the group, and unsurprisingly, found who he was looking for. _That woman._

                There you stood in the center of the other police, though you were out of uniform. He scratched his phalanges against the wooden table; it was bad enough facing Papyrus. Nothing had really been resolved, and now you were here, too. He hoped Papyrus wouldn’t see you… He heard Alphys speaking, but he kept his sights trained on you. Even without the uniform, your watchful gaze was enough to pin you as the one in charge. Your upright posture and borderline glower were the complete opposites of what he imagined when he thought of “leadership”. Asgore had always been a gentle ruler, slouching as to never overshadow or overwhelm anyone, and he smiled often. But “the Chief” was the complete opposite. None of the other cops passed in front of you, instead loitering at your sides, like they were waiting. But… for what?

 

                You watched the crowds, keeping note of the people who walked past. Though you’d gotten some rest, your vision still blurred on occasion, but that wasn’t enough to keep you from being here, and doing your job (even if you were technically off-duty). Sipping at the soda in your hand, you observed the festival-goers, human and monster alike. Most people wandered around slowly, eyes darting here and there, going toward whatever caught their interest. But the others? The humans who walked slowly, kept their shoulders stiff, carried bags, were loitering just a little too long… those ones you watched. You glanced at Officer Marks, who was also watching the crowd. “Are you sure about this, (Y/N)?”

                “Yes.” You had to be sure. You couldn’t just make choices lightly. If you backed out now, it would reflect poorly on not just you, but the judgement of the entire force. You couldn’t let doubt shake your confidence. “And even if I _hadn’t_ gotten the tip, I still would’ve sent some of you out here.” Just… not as much as you did. The four officers at your sides were nice, and each capable and efficient, but this event was large. Just the four (five, including yourself), wouldn’t have been enough.

                “Are you sure you’re not just being suspicious?” Ron folded his arms, looking at you with silent judgement, “I mean, we all understand with what happened with Casey, but you know there _are_ assaults happen the opposite way, right? Where humans are the ones attacking monsters?”

                You didn’t even bother glaring at him, instead keeping your eyes focused on the crowd, “Of course I know that. I sign off on _every_ report made. Or did you _forget_ who you’re talking to because I’m out of uniform?” You wanted to snap at him, but it didn’t matter right now. Your job was maintaining the safety of everyone in the city; that was your priority, rather than explaining yourself. “Besides, why do you think we’re here right now? To enjoy the weather?”

                Ron raised a brow- he hadn’t received snark like that since before Casey had passed. Or maybe it was just that you’d finally gotten some rest instead of pulling all-nighters in your office. Either way, showing some semblance of emotion other than ‘stoic Chief’ was a good sign for him… He was relieved, really. “Well, you might’ve just wanted to check out the festival, what with your favorite student.”

                At that, you turned to look at him. He probably hadn’t realized that Papyrus had withdrawn yet. It was an odd feeling, to realize that he had no clue about anything that had gone on. “Oh. Marks. _Of course._ I just _love_ summoning the ECP for my personal endeavors.” You rolled your eyes, but winced slightly when the action shot pain through your skull. “Please, go enjoy the steak in the shape of the robot’s face, my treat.”

                Ron opened his mouth, ready to make a quip in response, until all of their earpieces rang out simultaneously, “10-10,” He looked over at you, who, despite not having moved seemed to revert back to business as usual. The officers each stood, listening, ready for when the call would escalate. The voices murmuring through the crowd were quiet; background noise, but steadily started rising. Eyes turned onto you as you reached down, hitting the button, ready to make the call.

                “Alright, boys. Clear them out.” You watched the crowds, catching sight of your officers in various places, now starting to subtly block crowds off and redirecting them. You’d decided it’d be better to separate monsters and humans, each being guided toward a particular exit- humans toward the rear, monsters the front. If things were to go without a hitch, then the patrons wouldn’t even realize that it was happening until they were already out.

                You watched, keeping a careful eye on the people, if people started becoming too aware of what was going on, then they’d rebel. It had to be passive. You watched Marks and your fellow officers get into their positions, and you stayed put, listening.

                The murmur was getting louder.

                One pained yelp, and it all shattered. People turned to look at the noise, monsters and humans alike curiously making their way to the commotion. You swore under your breath, but decided to trust in your officers. They knew what to do. The group began to conglomerate, one large mass of humans and monsters, each too damn curious for their own good. “TURN THEM TO DUST!” And the sound of solid hitting flesh rang through the air, and for a moment, it was silent.

                And the murmur turned into a roar.

                The sound of bodies running into each other, clashing together, insults, threats, it all just melded into noise. You’d never seen so much magic at once, people being chased by apparitions, monsters being punched and tackled to the ground. “WE WILL SAVE HUMANITY!”

                Preventatives weren’t going to work anymore. You put your hand on your forehead, hoping your body would stay stable enough to see you through this, at the very least. You knew it was going to happen, you shouldn’t have been as stressed as you were. “Alright. Engage.”

                As soon as the signal was given, you watched your officers get into the offensive position, line after line, capable of letting the fleeing pass by into a second barricade of officers, but beginning to break up the action and subduing the ones they could. The humans were separated from the monsters, but when they started to engage the hostile monsters, you realized your mistake.

                …How do you subdue someone with magic? The ECP wasn’t ever trained to engage with magic- why would they have been? _You_ hadn’t been. They were going to die, weren’t they? They were going to die, just like Casey died, and it would be all your fault because you couldn’t save them. You froze, unsure of what order to call. You watched as the fuzzy shapes representing each monster’s magic began to close in on your officers and for the first time, you had absolutely no idea what to do. You kept your hand on your pager, wanting to press, tell them to retreat, leave them to destroy themselves, but that would’ve been… cowardly.

                You watched, trying to figure out anything, trying to recall every tiny thing you’d ever heard about magic and monsters, trying to cobble together a plan until a wall of bones shot up from the ground, between the monsters and your officers.

                “What? What is this?!” You watched the monsters follow the paths created by the bones, into what seemed like a makeshift prison cell further away. “H-Huh? But…?!”

                The roar had died down- people were still buzzing, panicking, but the remaining officers dispersed to calm the crowds, ensuring both monsters and humans that they were safe and things were going to be taken care of.

                “MISS CHIEF!” Papyrus’s hand on your shoulder made you flinch, but you made no move to remove his touch. “I’M SURPRISED YOU’RE HERE! IS EVERYTHING UNDER CONTROL?”

                You had never been so relieved to see Papyrus in your life; and for once, you took his question as genuine concern, rather than some attack on your leadership. And even if it _was_ , wouldn’t it have been warranted? You planned ahead for the humans, but hadn’t even considered what to do with monsters. You raised a finger, pressing your pager, “10-101?”

                With the resounding chorus of “10-106”s, you gradually relaxed. Everything was secure, and nobody had reported any injuries among the officers. Among the humans and monsters, you were positive there were a few, but you would’ve been notified of any deaths. As far as riots go, that one had been small and over relatively quickly. You’d have to remember to check out who’d given you the tip.

                With all of the pressing issues resolved, you turned your attention back to the tall skeleton. “Yes. Everything’s secure now.” You looked to the bone prison, “And thanks for your help, Papyrus.” He stiffened suddenly, and you tilted your head at the strange reaction. “What?”

                “YOU CALLED ME BY NAME!”

                You didn’t understand why this was of any note or significance. You couldn’t call him ‘cadet’ anymore, he wasn’t a part of the academy, and ‘monster’ sounded too discriminatory. But, it made the skeleton happy, and your life was made a lot easier because of his presence, so you decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. “I didn’t think you would mind.”

                “I _DON’T!_ ” Papyrus was absolutely beaming. You didn’t think anyone could be so happy with someone who had blackmailed him to give up his dreams. Speaking of which, why had he helped? Was he really just… _that_ nice? You absently grabbed at the fabric over your chest. How could you hurt someone so kind…?

                “heya.”

Oh yeah. You glanced at your side, being met with the shorter of the brothers. You glared, but returned your attention to Papyrus, your voice suddenly as inflexible and authoritative as it had always been. “Anyway, thank you for your assistance. Have a nice day.”

                “woah, give the attitude _arrest_ , won’t you?” Sans chuckled at his own joke, “just wanted to have a cop-persation with you.”

                Both you and Papyrus stared at Sans in silence. “SANS, THAT WAS A NEW LEVEL OF BAD.” Sans shrugged; bad was what he did. Bad puns, bad decisions, bad times. It was sort of his thing.

                Papyrus couldn’t help but notice how you reverted to how you were when you two had first met. It was conflicting; he was glad that you’d dropped your guard around him, even just slightly, but the fact that you had to be faced with Sans in order for him to know that was just uncomfortable. You sighed, “Ok. You wanted to talk? Hurry up.”

                “is there any way to re-enroll my brother in the academy?”

“SANS…”

                You furrowed your eyebrows. Did… did he know _why_ Papyrus had withdrawn, or was he just asking this out of curiosity? The answer was the same, either way.  “No.”

                “even after how he helped you out today?” Sans didn’t have a trump card, or any type of plan. Just seeing Papyrus had made him come over here without thinking. He looked so happy. Being an officer was what he was _meant_ to do.

                “I appreciate what Papyrus has done here, but the answer doesn’t change.” You folded your arms, “He withdrew _voluntarily_. His papers are in circulation, I’m not capable of overriding that.”

                “but _would_ you?”

                You felt yourself inching away from him, just slightly, but the question did resonate in your mind. If you had the capability, and hadn’t made the deal? Today had given you a new perspective- despite magic being dangerous, it apparently had its usages too- especially against other monsters. In fact, a monster squad used _specifically_ for monsters could be a wonderful asset. But Papyrus, specifically? As much as you admired his kindness and capability, it simply couldn’t be done. “I can’t.”

                Papyrus looked between the two, unsure if he should step in or not. You clearly didn’t like each other, but he didn’t sense any hostility. Just… discomfort. Sans had obviously taken what he said to heart. Sans was watching his words, but he still felt the need to pull him away, for both of your safety. “there’s _no way_ to do it?”

                “ _No._ ”

“even if you charged me?”

                So, he knew. Was it out of guilt he was asking? Maybe he should’ve thought about that before he assaulted you. “We can’t talk about this. It’s already been done.” Papyrus knew what you said was true, but it still hurt to hear you deny the idea so vehemently. He hadn’t done what he did to get back into the academy, but because he knew it was the right thing to do (and maybe for the recognition). He watched you straighten your shirt, before glancing over the two, “If that’s all, then please enjoy the rest of your day. Goodbye.”

                Sans sighed as he watched you disappear into one of the groups of officers. He hadn’t expected anything else, but he was going to fix this. Somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *It’s my new headcanon that Papyrus lets himself die every Genocide Run. Gosh, I just hurt myself. Paps is technically stronger than Sans; it’s Karmic Retribution, a fuck ton of surprise, and ability to dodge that gives Sans his edge. And if he has a GB? Oh baby. Paps just couldn’t kill anyone, morally. That’s why he tries to talk Frisk out of it, and lets himself die when it doesn’t work. I reserve every right to believe that Paps is just as strong as Sans, if not stronger. Also Undyne herself says that Papyrus is tough.
> 
> EDIT: Also, jeez, I went back and reread this chapter and it was just riddled with mistakes. Super painful. That's the last time I try to rush through editing!


	6. And Seizure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Officer Ron gives some advice, and Papyrus takes a step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo, sorry for the delay on this one. College is stressful, y'know?

“WELL, I GUESS WE SHOULD GO FIND FRISK.” Papyrus said after a moment, though he continued to watch the officers from afar. From what he could see, even some of the trainees were here today. It could’ve been a good training experience, and he’d never get to do anything like it. He could just step in whenever he was able, but it’d never be the same as being a legitimate officer. Not to mention civilians weren’t supposed to needlessly involve themselves in legal affairs…

                Sans forced himself to look away from Papyrus’s sad gaze. He already apologized to him, and doing it again in public just wasn’t something either of them wanted, he was sure.  “yeah. tori must be wondering where we are.” He started off toward the ambassador’s booth, glancing back after a few paces once he realized that Papyrus wasn’t following. He moved to call out to him, but his name died in his metaphorical throat when he saw Papyrus talking to another one of the officers. The one that had been speaking with the Chief earlier.

                “Hey, Papyrus. Good to see you’re here, too.” Officer Marks placed a friendly arm around the skeleton’s shoulders. Being one of the several instructors, Marks had taken to Papyrus almost immediately- though to be fair, all of them did. No one could hate someone so earnest.

                “HELLO, RONALD!” Papyrus greeted his former instructor as cheerfully as always. Even if he wouldn’t be seeing him at the station anymore, he was still a friend. “I COULDN’T MISS THE INTEGRATION FESTIVAL! I _AM_ THE MASCOT OF ALL MONSTERKIND, AFTER ALL.” He silently begged that this conversation wouldn’t going to go where he _knew_ it was going. In a desperate attempt to delay the inevitable, he looked to his side, “HAVE YOU MET MY BROTHER, SANS?”

                “Oh? You have a brother?” Ron’s gaze drifted over to the cluster of Officers, each busy writing reports, or moving rioters to their squad cars. All of them except one, of course.

                “THAT I DO!” Papyrus motioned Sans over, “SANS, THIS IS OFFICER RONALD MARKS! HE’S ONE OF THE INSTRUCTORS AT THE ACADEMY!”

                “hey there. nice to meet’cha.” The shorter skeleton ambled over, keeping his hands shoved in his pockets. Now that he considered it, did the other officers know what was going on with Papyrus? Did they know about the Chief’s deal? That he should probably be in prison right now? He sweated under the self-imposed pressure. Not that he’d ever really had a need for police so far, but what if he did? Would they all be weary of him because of what he’d done? And not just _him_ , but Papyrus as well? Stars, he _really_ did not think this through.

                “Likewise. Your brother’s a real star student, you know.” The officer shifted so he could look at them both. “And training under the Chief is no walk in the park, either.” He jutted his hand back toward the group, “He’s done well. He’s really going to go far. Maybe even become a Chief himself someday, judging by today!”

                Sans felt himself blanche; the slight blue tinge of his magic draining itself from his already white skull. What was this? Some kind of sick joke? Retribution? Was it supposed to make him feel guiltier than he already did? Well, mission accomplished. But, if he was saying these things, then it was probably unlikely that he knew about Papyrus, let alone the deal. “heh, yeah. my bro’s pretty cool, huh?” He did his best to keep his answer vague, unsure of what Papyrus was willing to tell him. “i dunno what i’d do without him.”

Officer Marks’s demeanor shifted slightly, and he shoved his hands into his pants pockets, mirroring Sans’s defensive position. And Sans noticed it, immediately. And he _really_ didn’t like it. He wasn’t sure what he knew that he didn’t, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to stick around to find out. He had enough of police officers to last him for a while. “PROBABLY SLEEP ALL DAY.” Papyrus chimed in a matter-of-fact tone.

Marks nodded, going along with the conversation. While he had come over to speak with Papyrus, the conversation topic he had in mind wasn’t about his brother. Though… it was good information to have. “Yeah, so…” He scratched his neck absently, “Papyrus, do you mind walking with me for a minute?” He stepped off to the side, gesturing with his head for him to follow. Though he posed it as a question, the suggestion wasn’t optional, and Papyrus knew it. Sans wanted to stop them; after all, anything he had to say, he’d probably know soon after anyway, but Papyrus’s words echoed in his mind. Papyrus was still disappointed in him, no matter how cheerful his disposition appeared. He couldn’t just go off and do something like that without considering what else he could be affecting.

“OF COURSE NOT!” Papyrus gave a concise nod toward Sans, before falling in step with his instructor. “GO ON AHEAD, SANS.” With that final note, the two left Sans on his own. He was no stranger to spending the day without Papyrus, either at work, babysitting Frisk, or in his lab, but he couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt _this_ alone in a crowd.

Several feet away, Ron glanced over his shoulder, addressing Papyrus in a low murmur, “Hey, why aren’t you in uniform? I thought you were scheduled to be here with us for on-site training.” Even though you had seemed to warm up to Papyrus, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off here. He had suspected it immediately when she took Papyrus under your tutelage. You’d never verbally expressed your mistrust of monsters, but all the officers knew what happened with Casey. It didn’t take a detective to see what was going on.

“OH.” Papyrus sweated slightly, unsure of how to have this conversation. If he jumped straight into it, there would obviously be questions, and if he skirted around the issue, there would _still_ be questions. He decided it was best just to tell the truth directly, “I WITHDREW YESTERDAY, ACTUALLY…”

He expected a look of shock, or an outcry, but Ron only looked at him with sympathy. Papyrus did a doubletake, wondering if he had read his expression wrong. Shouldn’t he be…surprised? Concerned? Anything but…understanding? “Did she make you?” Even if you were doing this for your safety, or everyone else’s safety, it was still wrong. Just because your heart was in the right place didn’t mean you could get away with discrimination. He chastised himself for not saying anything earlier, before it had come to this. If Papyrus decided to take this to court, it could get the entire ECP investigated, you could be fired, everything would be turned upside down. Ron was fond of his job and position, and he _really_ didn’t want to be the cause for this sort of thing, but his moral compass simply wouldn’t allow him to overlook it.

“W-WHAT? NO. OF COURSE NOT. I WITHDREW 100% OF MY OWN VOLITION WITHOUT ANY COERCION AT ALL.” The words just spewed from his jaw before he could take any consideration of how suspicious it sounded. He looked over his shoulder, back over at you and further off where Sans loitered. He didn’t particularly want to out either of you; why did this have to be so hard? He readied another spiel about how it was just for the best that he not join the force, and that he was simply too great to be a policeman right now but a hand on his radius gave him slight pause.

“You don’t have to lie, Papyrus.” Marks’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper, “If the Chief made you withdraw, I can talk to her for you.” You had never been a despot; you always listened to your fellow officers, and if you couldn’t find fault in their argument, it wasn’t unusual for you to alter how things were being run (within reason). “You just have to tell me what’s going on.” If talking didn’t solve it, then, with Papyrus’s permission, he could bring it to court, but he doubted you would even risk that. You might’ve been suspicious but you valued the ECP’s credibility more than some grudge against all monsters… he hoped. You seemed to be slowly crawling out of that pit that Casey’s passing had put you in, but even he couldn’t really tell how much it affected you. You were a master at disguising your grief.

“YOU… COULD?” Why had he just said that? He _knew_ he couldn’t. No one else should even know what was going on. He shouldn’t even be considering this right now. If he asked Ron to talk to Miss Chief, then _he’d_ get involved with what happened with Sans and then his brother would go to prison _and_ he wouldn’t get to rejoin the academy. “REALLY?”

“Definitely,” Why did his smile have to be so reassuring? Papyrus fidgeted with his gloves for a moment, glancing back at the group of officers. He wanted so badly to rejoin them. They were his new friends, they had the same values, same dreams. The prestige! The justice! Everything he wanted was right over there… “The Chief might be a little cold, but I think she likes you, Papyrus.” At least, more than other monsters, he suspected. You didn’t outright deny him when he said that Papyrus was your favorite student, after all. And the look of relief you had when Papyrus had helped them… Ron didn’t miss it. You were definitely opening up to him, just a little.

“WELL, OF COURSE, NYEH!” Papyrus grinned, but his eyesockets stopped on the Chief. He knew you didn’t, really. That’s why he was so excited when you addressed him by his name, rather than just ‘cadet’ or ‘rookie’. “BUT… IT IS HARD TO TELL WITH HER, ESPECIALLY.”

Ron chuckled lightly, though the mirth in his voice didn’t show in his eyes, “She wasn’t always like that.” Ron shoved a hand in his pocket, looking at the crowds of humans and monsters. He wished Papyrus would’ve joined the academy a year earlier; then maybe they would’ve been able to save Casey. Or, at the very least, your opinion of monsters. “The Chief and I were cadets at the same time. She probably had as much energy as you back then.”

“REALLY?? WHAT HAPPENED?” Papyrus couldn’t imagine that, and not for lack of trying. You just seemed so… tired? He figured it had to do with being the Chief of an entire police force (though, Undyne never seemed to be tired, so…?). You attitude and manner was so cold, who _could_ imagine you being so upbeat?

Ron’s smile fell away, and the positive memories with it. “It’s been the worst since-” He caught himself immediately. They weren’t in high school- he had no right to be gossiping about the Chief. It wasn’t _really_ either of their business, but he still felt the need to let him know. It was the real reason you made him withdraw, after all. Wouldn’t it be fair? Papyrus’s curious gaze was enough to make him keep talking, despite himself, “…Since Casey. She hasn’t really been the same since.”

Papyrus blinked- this was the first time he’d heard that name. “WHO’S CASEY AND WHAT HAPPENED TO THEM?”

Marks looked at the ground, still debating on going into specifics. Even if it was fair, you had kept your pride up during the whole ordeal. Other than the first day and the funeral, you had refused to mention him, or even your feelings on the matter. You shut yourself down, and anyone who had met you after that wouldn’t have even known that you changed at all, “…She wouldn’t like me talking about it.” He said after a long silence, “But, Casey is the reason she tried to get you out of the academy, I’m sure of it.” Ron straightened himself up, redirecting their little detour back toward the crowds, “Anyway, I’ll talk to her and see what I can do, okay?”

Papyrus nodded, though his curiosity had only been piqued. Who was Casey, and what did that have to do with him withdrawing? You’d only said ‘You’re too dangerous to be here’, when he asked why you wanted this, that didn’t involve another person…? “OH, WAIT!” He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts, he completely forgot about how this might affect Sans. He couldn’t tell Marks what happened there, of course, but he should at least… warn him?

“What is it, Papyrus?”

“UM…” He had not thought this through. “UM… WHAT DO YOU ACTUALLY PLAN TO SAY TO HER? MAYBE I COULD TRY TO DO IT, FIRST…” Well, that wasn’t what he wanted say. But, now that he said it aloud, maybe there _was_ something there. Something he could say to you, and make you see that there was maybe another way, so everyone could be happy…?

                Ron hooked his thumb into his pocket, giving the skeleton a peculiar look, “Well… I was going to talk to her about it, as a friend, first.” Well, he’d begin with that, and then bring out the legal guns if things didn’t pan out the way they should. Today had given him an inkling that the old Chief was in there somewhere- you hadn’t just completely shut down. If he could appeal to _that_ side of you, the side that had gone through exams, trainings, promotions, and deaths with him, then surely he could find that noble side of you, too. There was no way you would’ve let something like this occur before Casey died; he just had to help you see it again.

                “AS A FRIEND…” Papyrus repeated, thoughtfully. He hadn’t really considered the Chief a friend, only a superior. Would you _actually_ respond differently to someone who was your friend than you would to another officer? Well, Ron was technically both, but… Papyrus was neither. Maybe if he _became_ your friend, he’d be able to understand you better, and fix all of this! He’d be able to apologize for Sans, and Sans would see that there wasn’t any reason to be worried. His resolve strengthened. “ACTUALLY, RON, LET ME TALK TO HER FIRST! I THINK I HAVE AN IDEA!”

                Ron smiled wistfully. While he didn’t suspect he’d be able to get through to you on his own, it was endearing to see him so eager to try. That kind of drive would serve him well, heaven knows it served you well so far. “I’ll give you until tomorrow, Papyrus. The longer we wait, the harder it’ll be to convince her.” He gestured subtly over to the slowly dispersing group of officers. He turned to head back to his squad car, when Papyrus’s hesitant voice drew his attention back.

                “RON, YOU _WOULD_ HAPPEN TO KNOW WHERE MISS CHIEF LIVES, RIGHT?” He disregarded the strange look. He couldn’t go and ask you to reconsider at the station; you’d just reject him outright. He had to do it when you let your guard down completely, when you could hear past your own convictions. He could show you that you could trust him, and that monsters weren’t dangerous. You were just… misunderstanding. All you had to do was let him in.

                “I, uh…” Ron cleared his throat, “ _Yes_ , but…” He knew Papyrus was harmless; the worst that would happen is that he would _maybe_ alarm your neighbors, but the you were protective of your personal life, and only became more reclusive now that you lived alone. He couldn’t _imagine_ how shocked you’d be to open her door and find Papyrus standing there.

…And it wasn’t that he was _cruel_ or anything, he may’ve just been _mildly curious_ as to what might happen if Papyrus really did show up at your door… “Why would you…?”

                “I DON’T THINK I CAN TALK TO HER AS _CHIEF_. I HAVE TO TALK TO HER AS _(Y/N)_.” Ron gave a slow nod, beginning to follow Papyrus’s line of thought. Of course, he couldn’t go to the station and ask you while you were working, and asking here, while you were surrounded by your other officers, would only result in the same outcome. The only place you were someone other than the Chief of Police was at home. Noticing his hesitation, Papyrus blurted out, “I WON’T TELL HER HOW I FOUND OUT, EITHER! I’M A MASTER AT KEEPING SECRETS.”

                Perhaps it was just his intuition, but Ron doubted that statement. He sighed, but smiled nonetheless, “Alright, Papyrus.” He took out his phone, texting the address to the excitable skeleton. He hoped Papyrus would be able to open your eyes without the need for any legal repercussions. You were better than this, he knew it. “And by the way… I hope you don’t hold it against her too much. She’s not a bad person, she’s just trying to do what she thinks is best.” He wondered if he would’ve acted any differently if a monster had killed one of _his_ family members. It was easy to condemn you, it was easy to see that not all monsters were dangerous from the outside. But if the only family he had left had been ripped away from him? Would he really be as tolerant as he was? He shook the thought away. Of course he would. Monsters were just like humans- and he wouldn’t hold a grudge against all of _humanity_ if someone killed his family, right? He had accepted it while you were silently grieving the first few months, but he couldn’t let you go on like this.

                “I DON’T.” Papyrus stated plainly as he flicked through his phone, “SHE ONCE TOLD ME I WAS NAÏVE FOR BELIEVING IN THE BEST IN EVERYONE, BUT I BELIEVE SHE DESERVES IT JUST AS MUCH AS ANYBODY ELSE.” With a decisive nod, he returned his phone to his pocket, “THANKS, RON! I’LL BE ENROLLED BACK IN THE ACADEMY IN NO TIME, NYEH!” He left Ron with a friendly fist-bump and returned to Sans, who seemed much more relaxed than when he had left him. Probably by being with Toriel, he assumed.  “ARE YOU READY TO HEAD HOME, SANS?”

                “yeah, we’ve spent a _fair_ amount of time here.” Sans said with a lazy half-shrug, “today was just a _riot_ , huh?”

Papyrus was so enthusiastic about the prospect of befriending Miss Chief and fixing everything, he couldn’t even bring himself to groan. Besides, it… kind of _was_ a good pun. “COME ON, SANS, NO TIME TO WASTE!” He lifted his smaller brother, toting him along to his car. He felt Sans stiffen the slightest bit, as if he hadn’t expected to be carried, but he soon relaxed into his hold.

Sans closed his eyes, comforted by his brother’s familiar hold. Before he could even fight the urge, he was asleep, lulled by the constant purr of his brother’s engine. Papyrus patted Sans’s skull, keeping the music quiet as they headed home. He only had the time to set Sans in his bed and make a vague note on the fridge before he rushed back out to his car, navigating his way to the Chief’s house.

 

At home, you lounged on her couch, wrapped in a plush blanket, going through the mail that had piled up. Avoiding it had become habit ever since Casey had started receiving letters. You stared at the messy scrawl, unable to bring yourself to open letters that weren’t hers. You didn’t recognize the name- of course, Casey had friends you didn’t know about, but he never got letters when he was… here. As the months passed, the envelopes just sat, unopened on his desk. They were the only reason you ever entered his room. It was strange that he’d keep receiving letters from the same person, and they were hand written, so they presumably knew him personally… but what person would know him personally enough to write letters, but not know what happened to him?

You stared at the small envelope, debating if the magnitude of your curiosity was stronger than your desire to keep Casey’s memory intact. Every time you made the choice, you could only hesitate, causing you to linger even longer. Frustrated, you dropped the letters on the table, content to push them off until the curiosity got the best of you again. You laughed bitterly; at this rate, you wouldn’t know what was in those letters until your own death day. Wandering throughout your dim house, you found yourself in the kitchen.

You _hated_ the kitchen.

It wasn’t so bad when Casey was here, when he could help you out with cooking. He was so good at it, and you hated spending time cooking yourself. It was sad that you depended on him so heavily for something so basic. It wasn’t that you _couldn’t_ ; after all, there were a few years you struggled by on your own. Having a complete lack of domestic skills would’ve been a detriment. It wasn’t so much the technicality that was a problem, just… the _memories._ And the time. You never had the time.

You opened the refrigerator, scanning all the containers. Casey had the time to cook, didn’t he? You’d always envied him for that, taking life at his own pace. He always marched to the beat of his own drum, able to proceed happily through anything he did, no matter what anyone else said. Or… at least, he appeared happy. You shut the door, leaning against it in thought. By the time you’d taken Casey in, you were already on your way to becoming Chief. Long days, long nights. Paperwork, patrol. Was he _happy_ , or was he just trying not to worry you…?

You felt your nails bite into the skin of your forearm, startling you from the depths of your thoughts. Why had you even come in here? You looked around, slinking away from the fridge to grab the box of cosmic brownies from the cupboard and return to the couch. It’d make you sick to eat them all, but you were probably going to end up staying home under Ron’s advice _anyway_ , so…

After parking yourself back on the sofa and turning the detective shows up on blast, you began to reflect on your day. You were… lucky, that Papyrus had been present at the Integration Fair. Things would’ve likely gotten bloody… or dusty, without him. If your officers had felt threatened, there may have been a case where someone used deadly force, which may have been considered unjustifiable. Where did court draw the line for monsters? When did their magic stop being a part of them, and start being a part of an intent to harm? When they said so? If _that_ was true, then how was it provable? … _These_ kinds of questions were why Papyrus was just too much of a risk. It wasn’t that you hated him. It wasn’t that you were racist. It was all calculated, and he simply wasn’t worth it.

…Not to mention his brother may be unstable.

Now that you considered it, you should’ve given him a stipulation on keeping him on a tight leash. He was lucky that it was _you_ he assaulted and not anyone else. His ass would’ve been locked away for a good eight years if it wasn’t for Papyrus. You weren’t sure _how_ they’d imprison someone who could teleport, but they’d find a way. Probably an abundance of handcuffs, if he really wasn’t capable of getting out of the ones you’d placed him in the first time. Maybe placing handcuffs around his ankles so he wouldn’t be able to walk… Could he do the teleport thing with only his hands…? …Chains. Chains are good.

You cleared your throat, disrupting your own thoughts. You had put way too much thought into the logistics of imprisoning the little felon. It wasn’t like it was _cathartic,_ it was simply… in preparation for the future. You placed the third wrapper on the counter. Back to your day; the tip you’d received about the Fair. It had been direct, to your work cell; “EBOTT CITY SQUARE. 3:15PM.  THEY THOUGHT DUST WAS THE SOLUTION. THEY WERE THE PROBLEM. MHU.”

You’d garnered a few things from this tip; a- whoever they were, they were dramatics. Tips could be written in normal sentences and not cryptic capitals, suggesting someone relatively young, b- “they” were the human organization, all being interrogated now, and c- whoever sent the message is either _in_ that same organization, or a defector from it. All of these things were fairly basic and could be told at a glance, but it was the initials that got you- MHU? It was unlikely that they were initials- most people would only use first and last, or none at all if they wanted to actually remain anonymous. But they were likely human, and had intimate knowledge of the rioters’ plans, so it’d likely best not to publicly out them. They’d also sent from an anonymous number, but having that traced would only be a matter of time once you asked the tech security…

A loud knock startled you again, and almost immediately, you went into defense mode. Who would be here at this time of night? You didn’t order any food, the neighbors only came to your door at daylight… none of the _officers_ should be here, and if it was Ron, he’d just let himself in… You set the box of chocolate on your accent table, shrugging the blanket up over your shoulders and opening the door cautiously. “Hello—”

“HELLO MISS CHIEF! OH. NO, I MEAN, MISS (Y/N)!”

You stared up at the tall skeleton, wondering if you were hallucinating from too much chocolate. Was it… possible to have a sugar overload? “…How did—no, wait, _why_ are you here?” You figured if one of the skeletons could teleport, then they probably both could. Maybe they had some sort of internal system that let them go wherever they wanted to be. You didn’t really care. There was a more pressing question: why was Papyrus on your porch?

“I CAME TO HANG OUT AND SHOW YOU WHAT A _COOL_ AND _TRUSTWORTHY_ FRIEND I AM! _”_ Papyrus was grinning ear to metaphorical ear. You inwardly groaned- there was that feeling in your chest again…

He really _was_ like some kind of puppy. You pushed him away repeatedly, criticized him, ostracized him, blackmailed him, and tore his dreams apart, and _he was still here._ What did it possibly take to gain his scorn? Did he even _have_ any? You wanted to convince yourself that this was all some ruse, that he was just working at gaining your trust so he could backstab you in the end, but even you couldn’t believe that about Papyrus. He couldn’t do it. He was just too nice. It hurt that you _couldn’t_ be suspicious of him, _couldn’t_ give some incriminating reason for this kind of behavior. He just genuinely wanted to win your favor and you weren’t entirely sure how to respond to it. “Papyrus… you… _do_ realize I haven’t been the kindest to you, _right?_ ”

“WELL, THAT WAS AS _CHIEF_! I CAME HERE NOW TO HANG OUT WITH YOU AS (Y/N).” He struck a heroic pose, “I KNOW NOT EVERYONE CAN BE AS KIND AS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, _ALL_ THE TIME, BUT I KNOW YOU’RE CAPABLE!” He looked down at you warmly, before removing his hands from behind his back, “BESIDES, I HAD TO RETURN THESE!”

You stared at the silver cuffs in his gloved hands. They still looked like toys when he held them. It was funny, looking at him this way, just by his hands, he could’ve been human. He was probably the closest to human that monsters got… What was it that made him alive? His magic? Or his consciousness? Did he still have _humanity_ despite being a literal monster? You focused in on your reflections on the light silver. You wished you could draw the line. It’d make what you’d done easier to live down. You met his eyesockets through the reflection, and there was _concern_ in his eyes, and you weren’t entirely sure _how_ you’d placed it… but it sobered you. He wasn’t your cadet- _a cadet_ \- any longer. He was an ex student whose brother assaulted you. That’s why he was here, wasn’t it? To return to the academy, by getting on your good side? You quieted the voice that screamed that he wouldn’t dream of doing something so underhanded, and straightened your posture, “Keep them. As a memento. Goodnight.”

Papyrus frowned, he saw that you were fighting yourself, then the wall suddenly went back up- you were thinking as the Chief again. He watched you turn to go back inside, and before he could help himself he caught the door, “WAIT, MISS-”

“ **Go away.”** Why did he have to make this so difficult? You didn’t mind being grateful to him for what he’d done earlier, but the very fact that you _were_ made it sting that much more when you had to force him away. Why couldn’t he hate you? Resent you? What was it about him that made him just so… _nice?_ You glared up at him, but being met with that same sincere gaze made you falter. “I mean it, Papyrus. **_Go home!”_** You cringed as your voice cracked for the first time since… You shoved the thought away. Not right now. Please, not _now._

Papyrus didn’t shrink away like the everyone else did when you yelled. Most people would at least cringe, or avert their gaze, but the skeleton just watched you, seeming to take note of how you trembled visibly, even from underneath the fluffy blanket. The strength you showed at the station was never false; you were always assured in your decisions, and dutifully firm, by necessity. But it was only a façade here. You never had to _yell_ at the station; just sharpening your tone was enough. Even when he’d used his magic on you, you didn’t yell at him. You didn’t need to. He didn’t say anything, simply lifting his hand to put it on your shoulder.

You watched him wide-eyed, venom on the tip of your tongue, coagulating into nothing but saliva. _Why wasn’t he leaving?_ Why was he acting like you were a friend, someone he cared about? Someone who didn’t hurt him and make his life harder, and make judgements about him purely based on what he _was_? You felt that clench in your chest tighten, uncomfortably, where your breaths became shaky, and your lungs just _burned_. You just watched him through glossy, but narrowed eyes, hoping, in vain, that he’d stop pitying you and just leave like you’d told him to.

But all Papyrus saw was a wounded wolf. Giving your shoulder a gentle pat, he watched you flinch, and it was then that he realized how _small_ you seemed. You seemed to shrink in on yourself, slowly imploding and it was… _painful._ It reminded him of how Sans looked, sometimes. Like there was some bigger thing that was eating away at him from the inside out, until all that was left was just… _defeat_. After a long while, you finally spoke again, though your voice was quiet and strained, “ _Why can’t you just leave me alone…?_ ”

He looked down at your hands, balled at your sides, the tremble of them much more noticeable that usual. “You’re Hurting, Miss Chief.” You clutched at the blanket, as if it would help ground you, keep you stable. It wasn’t necessarily about the academy anymore; he just wanted to help you, as a person, as a friend. Marks apparently hadn’t been able to, and if all you did was let the pain fester, it was only going to get worse. He couldn’t ever remove that look from Sans completely, but if he could ease it in you, then maybe… it’d help make up for the fact that he could never comfort his brother the way he wished he could. “It’s Casey, Isn’t It?”

You stiffened, staring at him in shock. It was different hearing his name from Ron, or hearing his name in your thoughts. It was different from seeing it written, or mentioned by strangers in passing. He was referring to _your_ Casey. Stepping back through the door, you gave an abrupt nod over your shoulder, signaling him inside. Once he was through the door, and it had completely shut behind him, you snapped, “ _How do you know that name?_ ”

None of the recruits should have known, and even if there _were_ whispers behind your back, no one had ever _said_ anything about him to you before. You didn’t want their pity, you weren’t weak because your brother… You weren’t weak because you couldn’t protect him… You were a good Chief even if…

Papyrus flinched at your sudden outburst. Well, Ron _had_ said you wouldn’t like him talking about it, but… he had to be right. He wasn’t even sure what it was about Casey that had upset you so much, but he supposed this was his chance to find out, wasn’t it? “I… Um…” He probably _shouldn’t_ mention Marks, but not answering would probably only make things worse, “Officer Marks Said-”

“Ron.” You sneered, but oddly enough had a smile on your face. He couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing… Even the smile didn’t seem particularly malicious… “Of course…” You backed away from him, retreating deeper into your home. Papyrus hesitantly followed behind you. “What did he tell you?”

He watched you sit down on the couch and after a moment, he sat down beside you. “He Said That Casey Was Why You Wanted Me To Withdraw.” Papyrus looked around the space, noting the letters scattered on the table in front of the two of you- and there was that name- _Casey._

She sighed, “So he knows about _that,_ too?” You cut your eyes at him- had he gone to Ron in an attempt to override his withdrawal? It wouldn’t work. But you suspected he hadn’t mentioned anything of the deal to him. “But go figure.” You pulled the blankets up higher on your shoulders, trying to block out Papyrus’s curious stare. “He’s… not completely wrong.”

“I Thought You—” Papyrus shook his head- that wasn’t what he needed to be asking right now. He could worry about the academy after he got through this mystery. “Who’s Casey?”

Your eyebrows furrowed at his question. He knew Casey’s name, but not who he was? You sighed; not like it particularly mattered what he knew now. He wasn’t going to come back into the academy. “Casey was my brother…”

“ _Was_?” What a weird way to phrase that statement. People didn’t _stop_ being siblings. “Don’t You M-” His jaw clicked shut immediately.

Oh.

He stared at your curled-up form, unsure of what to say. He couldn’t remember the last time someone fell down, or even got dusted. It just… it didn’t happen often. Especially not someone who was close. You avoided his gaze and he just stared at the letters, the messy scrawl disappearing and wavering each time the TV shifted scenes.

If… Casey was the reason that you said he was too dangerous to stay at the academy then…?

Then your suspicions of him, your belief that not all people, or monsters, were good, how you’d reacted to his magic…

_Oh._

He fiddled with his gloves, “What Happened To Him?”

                You knew the file like the back of your hand. You never thought anyone would ask you that question; you never _wanted_ anyone to. There were so many things you wished you’d known about, wished you could’ve realized when it was going on. That’s what you got for being neglectful, wasn’t it…?

                It had started with something small; but then, doesn’t it always? Casey had always been on his computer- it’s just how he spent his time. He made his friends there, but… then he had begun to distance himself. He wasn’t as much of a homebody as he used to be- and you had been okay with that. It was good for high schoolers to go out, have experiences. But nothing had ever suggested that he’d been posting on monster-hate forums. His friends had joined, he joined, they all thought it was just harmless. Graffiti turned into teasing, and teasing turned into insults, and insults turned into challenges. _Monsters were spineless,_ he thought. _I bet I could dust one easy,_ he thought. It was just supposed to be one of those meet-ups between the cliques. Monsters showed up, humans showed up, they insulted each other, they went home. That’s how they’d always went down. Until _he_ met him. One punch was thrown, and the whole warehouse erupted- magic and fists, bloody noses, but that’s where it was supposed to _stop_. _It was an **accident**_. His soul was… different. Something about it being weaker, something about he couldn’t _see_ it. Casey wasn’t broken, he wasn’t _fractured_ or _wrong_ , he was just… different. You never could comprehend what he’d said about his soul. What was broken within him that you couldn’t fix? He was _your_ responsibility, you’d taken him in, protected him, housed him. He wasn’t supposed to _die_. Not before _you._

                “…Where did I mess up…?” You mumbled to yourself. Had Papyrus listened through that? He probably could’ve walked out, and it wouldn’t have been any different. You were already alone. You’d already messed up. You neglected him; you, _the one who was a law enforcer_ , had a brother that died of his own hubris. You couldn’t protect him from himself, and you couldn’t protect him from monsters. You… didn’t deserve to be Chief.

                Papyrus sniffled as he patted your hair, remembering how it had always calmed Frisk down when they were upset. You didn’t pull away from his touch, but did look up once you heard his sniffling.

                “…Why are _you_ crying?” You’d just told him that your brother was a racist. Shouldn’t he be disgusted? Shouldn’t hearing this serve as some sort of catharsis for him, after everything you put him through? You were shocked _you_ weren’t crying right now- but going over that case forward and backward probably numbed you to the story by now.

                Honestly, Papyrus couldn’t even answer you. He’d felt sadness before, but he’d never felt grief like _that_. It wasn’t even really your words- it was just… the utter _despondency_ that just soaked through your soul. It wasn’t something that could be contained anymore; it was overflowing, and seeped into his, and the tears started coming before he could even recognize that they were there.

                Now he understood that wounded look. Was this what you felt, every time that look passed through your eyes? Was this how you _always_ felt? He never wanted to feel something like this ever again. Without pausing to consider his actions, he reached out, pulling you flush against him, cradling you against his ribs until the worst of his weeping passed.

                You stiffened under his touch. When was the last time someone hugged you…? Despite the solidness of his bones, his hold was warm and… somehow, familiar. Comforting... You buried your face in his shirt, silently letting both of your tears pass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The memory of people is always a little more pure, isn't it..?


	7. Loud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You open the letters, Ron confronts you, and Papyrus gets another deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, class and work are a combo to be feared. So tired. So tired.

You had no idea how long you stayed tucked under his arms; all the minutes just melted together until Papyrus’s grip around your shoulders finally loosened. You shrunk back, pushing your hair away from your face, anything to keep your hands occupied. When you sighed, that lightness in your chest was… new. It was like you’d finally pushed aside some of the weight bearing down on you, or all the smoke had finally blown away and you were breathing for the first time. You folded your hands in your lap, memorizing the sensation before everything came back tenfold.

                After a few moments, the skeleton pulled himself together enough to ground himself back in the room. Even though he’d cried until he was out of breath and his ribs ached, he could still feel that lingering sadness penetrate the recesses of his soul. He wiped at his eyesockets, gaze wandering from the television to the table, where those letters sat, unopened. “Miss Chief, Did You Write These?” He reached out, picking up the envelopes, turning them repeatedly in his hands.

                You opened your eyes, attention dropping to the letters in his gloved hands. “No, I…” Why were you hesitating? Papyrus _knew_ already, there wasn’t any reason to hide anything from him now. Was it your pride…? Some deep-rooted fear of looking like a failure or…of sharing? “…They’re just letters I couldn’t open.” Admitting it made you feel weak- how could you run an entire Police Department, see the worst atrocities, and be unable to open a letter? Even though you knew it wasn’t coming, you still somehow expected a chuckle, a jab at your strength, but all you got was sympathetic silence. Papyrus leaned over, offering one side of the sealed envelope to you.

                “We Could Open Them Together?” It wasn’t just his own curiosity that made him offer, but he thought maybe if he knew what was inside of them, he could help you. A burden shared was a burden lessened- and from what he could tell, the Chief didn’t share many of your burdens… or anything, really. He hadn’t met anyone so guarded since Sans- it was a shame that they… didn’t get along (understatement of the millennium). In better circumstances, maybe you could have helped each other open up. The low murmur of the television was his only answer for several seconds, as various muted emotions flashed across your face.

                Could you trust him? Would he just use these letters against you, somehow- to get back into the academy? To find your weaknesses and flaws? The laugh in your head was as self-deprecating as they come. Even if he _was_ \- which he wasn’t- _it wouldn’t work_. He was already in your house, on your couch. What else could he possibly do? You were just trying to find a reason to keep yuor guard up, to push him away, and to crawl back into your familiar pit where everything was straightforward and easy. It was easy to see things in black and white- to justify all your actions with something that had never been binary in the first place. Casey wasn’t faultless, he was just as imperfect as you were. He wasn’t some saint that you could cling to, and it wasn’t fair of you to judge everyone else by what happened to him. “No…”

                You took the letter from him, gently placing it back on the table. Papyrus tilted his head, watching curiously as you stood up, circling around the couch and leaving the room. That… hadn’t seemed like a flat-out rejection of his help, but… He debated staying put or following you into the back for several minutes until you returned with a stack of envelopes and placed them on table. You grabbed one from the bottom of the pile and handed it over to him. “We should start with the first one.”

                He stared at you, unsure of why he felt so shocked at your complacency. He’d offered his help, and you accepted it. Maybe he was expecting you to argue or fight harder before you willingly sat down and handed him something so deeply personal. He shuffled the letter in his hands, gaining an expectant look from you. He opened the letter with careful tears, finally pulling out a simple folded notebook paper. He glanced over at you, but your attention was focused on the television, but your hands betrayed your calm exterior. Clutching at your blanket tightly, wringing and unwringing it until your palms began to sweat. He opened the letter, taking a moment to acquaint himself with the script and words around the smudges before he slowly began reading out.

                “ _Well… I wasn’t gonna write this letter but my therapist thought it might help me. So, I guess I’ll start by talking about my thoughts that night. It wasn’t the first time I’d gone to one of those fights. They happen way more often than people knew. I just thought it was going to be like every other one, so I wasn’t worried. The humans insulted Lou and I thought it’d be best the time for getting revenge for calling her a-_ The Words Are Blacked Out? _I remember how angry I was, seeing them all pile in like they were tough. They thought they were all better. They don’t know how hard it is to be a monster on the surface. They never have to have chalk dust tossed at them, or get kicked out of apartments weekly. They never have to fear being attacked for something they can’t control. They didn’t know anything. I just wanted to give them an idea of even half the pain I felt. It was just supposed to be a warning. Something small, just to show that they shouldn’t mess with us. I’d never seen someone’s soul split apart, let alone that fast._ ”

 Papyrus glanced up, noting your eyes were still trained on the television, though looking glossier now than they had been before. He wanted to ask if he should stop, but before he even took a breath to, you waved your hand for him to continue reading.

“ _I had never felt panic like that before. I never thought I’d kill someone. If someone had told me about that rush I felt when my EXP went up, I would never use my magic on someone again. I can’t remember what happened after the human fell down. It’s all sort of a blur. I just remember everyone scattering, leaving me alone with the body. I could have left, too. Maybe I should have. All I could think was how I needed to apologize to his family. Maybe they’d understand that it was an accident, that I didn’t mean to… I called the cops and talked so fast I can’t even remember what I said. I just stood there and stared until they came in. It was weird, how big the cop’s eyes got when he looked at him on the ground. He turned to me, and demanded an answer, but I just… I couldn’t. Not until his family knew. Imagine **my** surprise when they brought me in to meet the family and it’s another cop… Anyway… I can’t remember if I apologized that night. I was so scared, I just tried explaining myself best I could but nothing came out right. I guess I should say sorry, even if this letter isn’t sent. For what it’s worth, it all really was an accident. I never wanted this. I just thought it’d help us all live in peace. I don’t expect forgiveness, but the apology is there, I guess. -Swayz_”

You kept yourself curled in her blanket, but made no move to respond. You didn’t recall an apology that night, or even at the trial. It wouldn’t have made it better, and you still weren’t sure if you _could_ forgive something like this, but… hearing it did help something. _Somewhere_. It didn’t lessen the ache you felt when you thought of Casey, but something in you felt… slightly better for getting an apology. His guilt was relatable… It was admirable that he’d feel that way, and you couldn’t bring yourself to absolutely despise him after hearing him describe his thoughts; you’d been on cases where both humans and monsters had no qualms about murdering each other. You’d been receiving letters like this for months and hadn’t opened a single one of them. Maybe it was for his own gain that he kept sending them, but did he really have several months worth of regret to keep sending you letters? “Miss Chief, Do You Want To Open The Next Ones?”

Papyrus reached into the bottom of the pile, retrieving the next letter, but paused when you shook your head. “We can do it another day.” You didn’t think your mental state could take any more of this today. Your body was probably going to give out any moment now from emotional exhaustion alone. You forced yourself to your feet, taking a glance at the clock as you did so; nearly 1AM now. It wasn’t unusual for you to be awake at this time, but for once you actually wanted to go to sleep.

Papyrus perked up slightly at your response. He wasn’t sure if you’d said it unwittingly, just a phrase to fill space, but he took that as a sign he’d accomplished what he came here to do. “YOU MEAN IT?” You jumped at his sudden increase in volume, but relaxed soon after. It was just far too late (or… early?) to even remotely try to act annoyed by it.

“Sure, Papyrus.” You rubbed at your eyes with the back of your wrists, doing your best to reject the urge to yawn. “…And it’s not that I haven’t appreciated your time here, but…” You shifted your weight to one leg, trying to find a polite way to word your thoughts. “…It’s late. You should go home.” Even in your half-conscious state, you still were capable of recognizing the pure shock over Papyrus’s face as he stood up abruptly, nearly knocking the table over as he did so.

“OH MY GOODNESS. YOU’RE RIGHT! SANS IS—PROBABLY STILL ASLEEP, BUT, I SHOULD GO HOME BEFORE HE WAKES UP!” Papyrus strode over toward the front door, with you at his side. You didn’t have guests often, but it was second nature to see him out to his car. It was… the least you could do, for right now. “ALRIGHT MISS CHIEF! I WILL SEE YOU TOMORROW!”

You blinked at him, unsure if it was due to your exhaustion or the concussion that made you unable to find a single reason to tell him no. You sighed, but offered him a grateful, albeit weary smile in return. “Sure, Papyrus. Drive safely. Good night.” Papyrus hesitated, like he wanted to say something, but the words just wouldn’t come. He’d never seen you smile like that. It wasn’t sarcastic or false. Tired, but… genuine. Even though your words were curt, similar to how you were at first, he found that they didn’t have a bite anymore…

It was a good feeling.

“GOOD NIGHT, MISS (Y/N).”

 

It was normal for Sans to wake up in places he didn’t remember falling asleep; it happened pretty much every day since Papyrus was first able to pick him up. But it still unsettled him to wake up to silence. If it wasn’t Papyrus, it was the TV, and if it wasn’t the TV, then it was Frisk. But just silence…? He sighed, putting his hands over his face. He should be happy; there weren’t any nightmares this time; he didn’t wake up sweating, there wasn’t any pain or fear that Papyrus wouldn’t be there…

He sat up abruptly, groping around the mess of his bed for his phone. Speaking of Papyrus… it was strange that he couldn’t hear him. Papyrus didn’t sleep unless he crashed (which was rare) or he was challenged to. He should be up making puzzles or watching his shows, but… everything was dark outside of his room. After finding his phone, he wandered out into the dark hallway, dragging his phalanges across the wall as he approached Papyrus’s bedroom door. The door was closed- normal, but the lights were off- _not normal_. He hesitantly opened the door, peering inside to see it was just as organized as it ever was. But also devoid of his brother, which he expected, though that didn’t comfort him any. He headed down the stairs, all too aware of the silence around him. It felt like the shadows were judging him; whispers and echoes of screams, each asking why he hadn’t stopped it, what good was he to have waited until everyone he care about was dead.

He forced himself to shake them off, flipping on the kitchen light and pausing when he found a note hastily stuck to the fridge. He pulled it off, scanning over Papyrus’s exuberant penmanship; “SANS! I WENT TO BEFRIEND MISS CHIEF! SPAGHETTI IS IN THE FRIDGE.”

He stared at it for five seconds longer, feeling a baseless panic well up in his chest. What if something bad happened? What if he hadn’t come home because he was a pile of dust somewhere, and he had _slept_ instead of protecting him? He forced himself to chuckle; of course he hadn’t. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He couldn’t keep thinking like this if he wanted to make things up to Papyrus.

But _damn_ , his hands wouldn’t stop shaking…

He meandered over to the couch, leaning against the arm has he flipped through the various channels. He liked keeping them on the astrology shows, but even they didn’t distract him enough. He checked the time… and checked it again. The minutes all just blurred together until the sound of the front door swinging open caught his attention. He slumped down into the plush couch, every bad thought he had just dissipating into nothing but relief. “hey, pap.”

Startled, Papyrus dropped his keys, turning around to meet his brother’s eyes. “OH. HELLO, SANS.” After setting his keys back on the ring, he settled himself on the couch next to him. He wanted to ask him how long he’d been awake for, but judging by his lack of a jacket, it probably wasn’t long. He wouldn’t go ten minutes without that stained thing.

The two sat in the quiet, watching the show for a good three minutes before Sans decided to speak up. “…so you talked with the chief, huh? did everything go ok?” He wasn’t entirely sure what he was expecting, but despite being the coolest brother in the world, that no one could possibly hate, he secretly hoped it hadn’t gone well. Even if it hadn’t, he knew Papyrus wouldn’t give up once he set his mind on something, but… he didn’t want him going there anymore. He looked over, preparing to comfort him, but… his face just lit the entire room.

“IT WENT REALLY WELL, SANS.” Should he tell him about what happened? About Casey? He decided he wouldn’t- it had taken you a long while to open up to him… and you probably wouldn’t like Sans knowing something like that about you. “SHE ACTUALLY _SPOKE_ TO ME. LIKE A PERSON. A REAL FRIEND.” He didn’t expect to get to see every good side to you at once, but just seeing that small sliver of something emotional, and real… he _had_ to keep at it.

Sans couldn’t bring himself to ruin his happiness. Papyrus was an adult- and autonomous- he didn’t have to tailor his actions just to please Sans, but… stars, hearing this made him queasy. If Papyrus’s guard was down around you (even more so, anyway), than it’d just be that much easier to dust him, if the desire struck you. “that’s great, but uh…” Sans’s phalanges tugged at his shirt collar, “don’t you think you should… leave her alone?” It sounded awful when he said it aloud. “i mean… she already said she can’t override your withdrawal… we can find a different course to put you in.”

The words lingered there, and Papyrus’s eyebrow bones only furrowed at the statement. He wanted so badly for Sans to understand. He wanted him to approve of what he was doing. Why was he still so… hesitant? “IT’S NOT JUST ABOUT THE ACADEMY, SANS.” He slouched a bit, placing his forearms on his patella. “I WANT TO HELP HER… EVERYONE DESERVES THAT CHANCE.” He met his eyelights sadly, “…DON’T YOU THINK SO?”

He wished that look didn’t burn so much. Papyrus had always been that way, so positive and upbeat. It was what made him _him_ and Sans knew he’d never be able to change him, but… he just wished he could be a bit more cautious. They only had this time, now. There wouldn’t be any more resets, they _both_ had to be careful. “i… yeah. but… i’m just saying it might be easier if…” It didn’t matter how many times he was met with those sad, expectant eyes, he still faltered every time. “…if you’re careful, pap.”

The taller skeleton sighed audibly. He wasn’t going to get anywhere with Sans easily. For someone who was so lazy, he could be surprisingly stubborn about the strangest things. “MAYBE IF YOU TOLD ME _WHY_ I SHOULD BE CAREFUL, I COULD UNDERSTAND, SANS. _”_

Sans stiffened, averting his gaze to the television before shrugging noncommittally. “is it so bad to worry about the coolest bro in the world?” He wished he could tell him. He wished he could tell him everything he’d ever saw and felt, but… none of it was real. Or… it wasn’t anymore? It wasn’t real _now_. How was he supposed to explain that he’d had to kill the kid, over and over? That he panicked every time Frisk was in the kitchen with him? There were no  words to explain it. And he knew Papyrus knew that, at this point.

“I SUPPOSE IT _IS_ NATURAL TO WORRY, BUT STILL! MAYBE WE COULD… I DON’T KNOW… FIX IT??” Papyrus only sighed when Sans leaned against his side. He’d fall asleep any minute now- like he always did. It was how he got out of conversations. And Papyrus could never bring himself to call him out on it. Whatever Sans was locking away within himself, it wasn’t something Papyrus would ever know. But… he’d still try. Maybe one days Sans would decide to stop being so secretive on his own.

“i don’t think it works that way…” After Sans’s eyesockets closed, he started drifting back off to sleep, only barely aware of the television, or Papyrus’s words. The noise was comforting. He wasn’t in Snowdin, where everything was shut down and dusty. He didn’t have to worry so much for right now. But even that peace caused unease inside; it just reminded him that he’d still made mistakes now. He was _still_ holding his brother back and preventing him from following his dreams, because he was trying to protect him. “i’m… still sorry about earlier…” He half-mumbled, words slurring together the more sleep claimed him, “i just…”

“I KNOW, SANS.” Papyrus patted his skull gently, flipping through his phone with the other hand. He had considered taking him back up into his room, but… it looked like he was needed right here for now. And… he didn’t mind that so much. However much his brother frustrated him, he would always be there when he needed him. It was what good brothers did… and he’d learned from the best, after all.

 

The next day hadn’t come so smoothly; you woke up face down on your sofa, with the television still murmuring in the background. If the light streaming through her curtains were any indication, it was noon already. You felt your heart leap into your chest, you hadn’t overslept since you were a _cadet_. And you certainly hadn’t slept like that since Casey passed. You stood up, tossing your blanket aside, ready to go and prepare to head into the station before a knock at your door interrupted your routine.

You sighed, straightening your tank top before getting the door. “He—oh.” You tilted your head, wondering why Ron was here. And out of uniform. He usually called first. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, hey to you, too, Chief.” Marks said with a smirk, side stepping your disheveled form. He had been preparing himself mentally to come here and have the chat about what you’d done to Papyrus. He didn’t like the feeling of doubting you; you were as much a superior as you were a friend. It just didn’t sit right with him. He glanced around your home, noting it was… different than when he’d visited in the past. You were never _this_ messy. He sauntered over to the living room, with you trailing closely behind.

You folded your arms, leaning against the arm of the couch as you studied him. He smiled and walked as he did typically, but there was a certain… anticipation in his eyes. A tenseness that you recognized and it instantly put you on edge; you hadn’t forgotten what happened the _last_ time you’d seen that look. “…what is it, Ron?” You’d known each other far too long to beat around the bush. If he came here just to check on you, he would’ve just said so.

“Can’t hide a thing from you, can I?” He chuckled, spreading his arm over the back of the couch. He expected you’d catch on immediately; you hadn’t gotten where you were by being unobservant. He thought it’d help him, being able to jump right into it, but he still wanted to believe that there wasn’t a reason for it. You, of all people, should recognize how unjust and biased your actions were. “So… let’s just be real here, (Y/N).” Ron grabbed the remote, shutting the television off, and only when he went to set it down did he notice all of the letters spread across the table. Each addressed to Casey… and here he’d thought you were healing. “Papyrus’s withdrawal from the academy. You made him, didn’t you?”

Your brow quirked at the accusation. It wasn’t necessarily inaccurate, but hearing it tossed at you so blatantly certainly didn’t feel _good_. “His withdrawal was _completely voluntary_. I didn’t-”

“ _Don’t lie to me._ ” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d used that tone. He almost regretted it, seeing how you tensed with the increase in volume, but he couldn’t back off this time. He knew you were in the wrong; it had to be rectified, even if you didn’t like it. _Especially_ if you didn’t like it. “I spoke to him, (Y/N). He _told_ me that you made him.”

Your gaze narrowed on him, and it felt like his skin was on fire. He forced himself to sit still under your glare; if he shifted, it meant submitting. “He told you that, did he?” There was that icy tone he’d grown so familiar with. “Alright then, _Deputy_. What _else_ did he tell you?” You hadn’t thought Papyrus would go to anyone else with what happened, considering his brothers’ freedom was on the line, but if they were going to try to back you into a corner with it, you had no qualms with snapping at them. You thought you’d been relatively lenient, given the circumstances.

“Don’t try to pin this on _Papyrus_. We’re not _stupid_. I know you dismissed him just because of what happened with Casey.” He clutched at the cushion, keeping his eyes glued to yours. “And yeah, what happened to Casey was horrible and he didn’t deserve it, but you can’t blame _all monsters_. It wasn’t _Papyrus’s fault_ your brother died.”

                “No. But it was _his brother’s_ fault that he withdrew. I _told_ you, I didn’t execute his termination; he did it **_himself_**.” You forced yourself to sigh before you got upset. Or… _more_ upset. “The _only_ thing I did was give him an ultimatum. He accepted the terms.”

                Ron paused- wait. What? Papyrus hadn’t said anything about his brother. Sure, he insisted that he’d withdrawn voluntarily, but he just thought he was trying to cover for you. “What are you talking about?”

                “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you really come into _my house_ to judge me on something you don’t know a _damn thing about?_ ” You bit out, clenching your fists. “Whatever Papyrus told you about his withdrawal was apparently a _lie_.” Though… you had the feeling that Papyrus was incapable of lying. This was likely Ron acting before he had his proper evidence. And you couldn’t really blame him for jumping to that conclusion- it had been your goal to get Papyrus out of the academy, you just hadn’t been able to prior to that incident. If it had never happened, you’d probably still be training him, bitterly perhaps, but he’d still be in the academy. “So, go on Deputy. Keep talking, knowing what you do.”

                “Cut the sass, (Y/N). What ultimatum did you give him? What about his brother?” Ron sat up, now unsure of what he really came here to do. Either way, this was still underhanded but… it gave a different spin on things. He still wanted to see Papyrus back in the academy- he was a good addition to the force, but if you _weren’t_ just trying to save face, then… there were more aspects to consider than just blatant racism.

                “Do you actually _check_ the security cameras, like I _tell you to?_ ” You put your hand on your hip, and Ron sweated under the scrutiny. Things got hectic. There were barely enough officers to spare to have one of them sit and stare at screens all day- especially _him_. But he couldn’t argue you; it was one of his duties that he neglected purely because it was both boring and tedious.

                “What’s that got to do with this?” His voice was much steadier than he felt. As long as he could hold out long enough to get solid answers, he could still fix things. Not just for Papyrus, but for the Chief, too. He only wished you’d stop using that harsh tone on him.

                “Maybe you should do your job properly before sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.” You snapped, but immediately sighed. “No. Wait.” You were upset that he was accusing you, but… it wasn’t fair of you to act like you had some moral high ground. “I… shouldn’t be so rude. Look, Papyrus’s brother gave me a concussion, and it’s in our archives. I told Papyrus that if he voluntarily withdrew from the academy, I wouldn’t press charges on his brother. The choice was his.”

                Ron went silent, considering this new information. If that was really the case, then… it made sense. It was weird of you to not just arrest Sans, but if that’s why Papyrus really had withdrawn, there wasn’t really anything he could do to override it. He obviously cared about his brother enough to give up his position in the academy, and if Ron took the decision to court, it would be fair of you to counter with the assault video. Not to mention, the deal was verbally between them, with voluntary withdrawal forms- there… wasn’t anything he could do about that. _He_ couldn’t disprove the existence of the deal, and getting his brother thrown in prison would probably make Papyrus unhappy.  “…You didn’t have to make him withdraw, (Y/N)…”

                That much was true. You _didn’t_. But you gave the stipulation, and he agreed. There was nothing else any of them could do. You stared at the letters on the table, “Even if magic is dangerous… Papyrus would have made a good officer.” You weren’t sure if you were entirely on board for all monsters to join the force, but… Papyrus would have made a good example. It was by your own hand that he wouldn’t get to, but maybe in another time, things would have worked out better.

                “You sound like you really _were_ warming up to him.” He thought it was just you being cordial at the festival, but… that looked like genuine affection in your eyes for a moment. He didn’t think you were even _capable_ of that look anymore. For once, he was glad to be proven wrong.

                You ran your hand through your hair, looking away from his judgmental gaze, “ _Watch it_ , Deputy. You already put me in a bad mood.” Your fingers drummed against your forearm for a moment before you just gave in and sat on the couch next to him. He did a good job in guilting you about what you’d done. It couldn’t be taken back, and it wasn’t Papyrus’s fault, really. Even if you _wanted_ to give him a second chance, you honestly couldn’t. And let’s say you _could_ do it, hypothetically speaking- what was stopping his brother from going out an assaulting other people?

                “So… do you think you’re going to file to have a Monster Squad set up?” Ron asked nonchalantly, noting your thoughtful stare. “Papyrus could lead one of those.”

                “Can’t.” You pulled at your tank top absently, “A monster squad would require proper training by _humans_ so that they can act in accordance with our law. I had to train Papyrus in law from scratch. Doing it with a team would be too great a task.” Not to say it was impossible, but running a test class alongside the academy now… well, the ECP didn’t have those kinds of funds. It simply wasn’t plausible. Something similar could be possible in the far future, but not now.

                “Were you _actually_ considering it?” Ron wasn’t sure if he was surprised or proud to hear you say that. You didn’t just brush it off because they were monsters, but you had a genuine reason you were saying no. Maybe your bias toward monsters wasn’t really that bad. Maybe you were just afraid of them. With what happened with Casey, and then Sans… that would be understandable. But still not a good reason for discrimination.

                You cut your eyes at him. but decided not to dignify his question with a response. You’d seen the benefits of what Papyrus could do at the festival, and if other monsters could act similarly, then a team would be an asset to the force. But that possibility was dependent on several things; the monsters’ willingness to work with and conform to human laws and enforcement, each monster’s personal capability, and being able to gauge the safety of the arrestee. If what happened to Casey was any indication, it might be more of a hassle to have monsters accidentally murdering criminals than it would be just doing it how it’s done currently. But for big events, where monsters and humans are mixed, it would definitely help out to have separate teams with individual skillsets. You shook your head of the thought; you were getting way too far ahead of yourself. They didn’t have _any_ monsters available right now, so you should probably stop considering things that weren’t likely.

                “It really is a shame about Papyrus, though.” Ron said after a silence, “He was so eager. He reminded me of you.” He chuckled warmly, “He would’ve raised through the ranks quickly, I’m sure.”

                You rolled your eyes playfully, “You act like I just jumped right into the Chief’s spot after graduating from the academy.” The years were hard on you; at first, it was all sort of a game. It was like living a dream, where you could make people’s lives better, or vanquish evil-doers just because that’s what you were _supposed_ to do. Your mood darkened once you began to recall raising your rank. It wasn’t bad, at first. More responsibility, more people to help. You’d done your absolute best and worked your ass off to get the recognition that you did. You remembered the day you got an odd call into the Chief’s office. At first, you thought you were being reprimanded, from the stern look on his face, but then he slid a paper across the desk, his steely eyes never leaving yours. _‘I’ve recommended you for a position in the Special Tasks Force, (Y/N). It’s a very high honor. I expect you to accept it and continue to achieve great things.’_

                Your eyes widened. The Task Force. The STF worked jointly with the police, but they weren’t under their direct jurisdiction. You’d gone back and forth with your time in the STF, but it had taught you a lot, and practically put you on the path to becoming the Chief of Police. Once you decided that you couldn’t stay with the STF anymore, you returned to the ECP and your experience there had made you more than adequately equipped to run things in station. You wondered momentarily if Ron had done that on purpose- planted that idea in your head, but you decided it didn’t matter either way. “So, I just got an idea…”

                Ron leaned forward, intrigued by the sudden flare of passion that had sparked in your eyes. “Talk to me, Chief.”

 

                Papyrus had finally pried himself away from Sans who was now lounging- awake- on the couch. He searched through his drawers for his favorite strainer. As much as he loved cooking spaghetti, he felt antsy being in the house like this now. Undyne was busy with Alphys and Frisk was at school. He’d already gone through all his exercises, built several amazing puzzles, and read through the law books he had yet to return, and had practically recited every MTT drama that had been on replay for the last four hours. It was all just torture of the worse kind. The abrupt ringing of his cell phone caused him to bounce up like a spring, bounding across the kitchen and over the couch, his boiling spaghetti temporarily forgotten.

                “HELLO! IT IS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SPEAKING!”

“Hey, Papyrus. It’s me, (Y/N).” There was a pause, and for some reason, Papyrus had no idea what to say. Miss Chief was… calling him? And he couldn’t even find a single reason. You really _must_ consider him a friend! “So… would you like to make another deal with me?”

                “…WHAT??” A deal..? Sans had been here the entire time, so… it didn’t have anything to do with him. He wasn’t sure if he really wanted this or not, though… what else was there to lose? He wasn’t a police officer, he wasn’t enrolled in anything… What bad thing could come out of this, “WHAT KIND OF DEAL, MISS CHIEF?”

                At that, Sans’s attention snapped to his brother. Why wouldn’t this woman just leave his brother alone? You already took his dreams away (…with _his_ help.) and hurt him. What more could you possibly want from him? He’d have to remember to get that number from Papyrus’s phone so he could prank call it…

                “I wasn’t lying when I said I couldn’t admit you back into the academy; unfortunately, you won’t be rejoining us here. However, there’s a group that works in conjunction with the ECP called the Special Tasks Force. I could recommend you, and you don’t _have_ to be an officer prior to admittance.”

                Papyrus couldn’t believe his non-existent ears. Was this really happening? Because it didn’t feel like it was happening. This was the greatest thing to happen since Mettaton cooked glamour spaghetti on his cooking show. He was silent for so long, that you just cleared your throat and continued to speak. “ _But_ … There’s a slight problem. The STF’s training is out of Ebott and lasts five months. Here’s where the deal comes in. I’ll fully recommend you and assist with your paperwork, _but_ your brother must be put under house arrest.”

                “WHAT?? SANS PRACTICALLY SLEEPS ALL DAY ANYWAY, I’M SURE HE WOULDN’T MIND. IS THIS EVEN A DEAL??”

Sans shuffled to sit up at the mention of his name. Why was that woman talking about him? He didn’t like the trepidation creeping its way into his sternum, as he listened closely to the one-sided conversation. Some kind of deal… About him sleeping? Papyrus didn’t seem concerned, so it probably didn’t involve prison… Either way, he really didn’t like where this was going… You were quiet for a moment before deciding to clarify. “He would be under Ron and I’s supervision. For five months. Are you positive you’re agreeing to this?” You figured he’d want a day to sort it out, or at least ask his brother if he was okay with it, but Papyrus was raving, he was so thrilled.

“I’LL TELL SANS THE NEWS RIGHT NOW!” Papyrus set the phone down, picking Sans up and spinning him around. “SANS! MISS CHIEF JUST CALLED AND SAID SHE’D RECOMMEND ME FOR THE SPECIAL TASKS FORCE! I COULD STILL BE PRESTIGIOUS! RESPECTABLE! HELPFUL!” Sans smiled at his brother’s joy. He was always happy to see him so energetic, but especially after he’d been down these last few days. But even so, he still knew there was something more coming with it- the word _deal_ had especially stuck out to him.

“that’s great, bro. i guess this was an _agency_ of the best kind, huh?”

“NOT EVEN YOUR PUNS CAN RUIN THIS MOMENT.” He continued to twirl him around before setting him down, “BUT, SHE SAID ONE OTHER THING—THAT YOU HAD TO BE UNDER HOUSE ARREST FOR ME TO GO.”

“what.”

“COME _ON,_ SANS, YOU LOVE THE HOUSE!! IT’S NOT EVEN FOR THAT LONG! AND YOU’LL ALSO GET VISITS FROM OFFICER MARKS AND MISS CHIEF!”

Sans sweated slightly at the prospect at being under house arrest. Sure, he lazed around but, that was his will to do so… Besides, he liked going to Grillby’s and seeing the stars and taking Frisk places. Being under house arrest would hinder all of that. “i dunno, pap…”

“OH.” Papyrus’s joy just deflated and Sans immediately kicked himself. How could he say that? It was _his_ fault the first opportunity was ripped away from him. He couldn’t let him suffer because he didn’t want to give up his freedom. “I GUESS I’LL TE—”

“i meant i dunno how i’ll get along without you, bro, but i’ll be rootin’ for ya.” Sans reveled in that little moment where nothing but pure happiness filled his brother’s face. Yeah. He made the right choice. “so how long is it?”

“FIVE MONTHS!”

**…shit.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some hate flirting is on the horizon. Look forward to it.


	8. And Clear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet the gang and Papyrus says his farewells.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit, I'm so sorry. It was my birthday and work and class. I'm trash, I'm so sorry. Please make sure to subscribe in case this happens again so you get updates.

The rest of the day after that moment was a total blur; Papyrus was joyfully singing at the top of his lungs as he shoved the majority of his room into three suitcases. How he did it, Sans had no idea, but watching him from his spot atop Papyrus’s bed made him feel… melancholy. He knew it wouldn’t be forever; he was going to follow his dreams, and he’d be back before he knew it. He was proud that he was going, truly, but… what was he going to do without Paps for _five months?_ And that was even without considering the whole house arrest aspect of things. How was he supposed to explain to Toriel why he couldn’t meet up with her, or why he couldn’t take Frisk out somewhere? …He’d just have to cross that bridge when he came to it, he supposed.

                “NOW SANS, I KNOW I DO MOST OF THE CLEANING, SO CAN YOU _PLEASE_ MAKE SURE YOUR TRASH TORNADO DOESN’T CONSUME THE HOUSE?? _PLEASE?_ ” Papyrus closed his final suitcase, sitting down next to his brother. He wouldn’t be leaving until the day after tomorrow for processing, but it was always better to be prepared.

                “heh, i’ll make sure the house isn’t _torn_ ado apart.” …It probably would consume the house after the third day. But he knew Papyrus had better things to consider than the state of the house right now, so he had no issues with appeasing him. “y’know since you’re leaving so soon, you should probably let everyone know before you go.”

                Papyrus’s eyes bulged; it’d been so sudden, he hadn’t even told anyone else yet! Undyne was going to be so proud! And Frisk, too! He fumbled with his phone, calling up everyone, hurriedly explaining that they needed to come to their house _right now_ because it was of the _utmost importance!_ Of course, he wouldn’t have time to make party spaghetti, but… he was sure they’d all understand. Papyrus turned to thank Sans for the reminder, but couldn’t help but notice how… down his brother seemed. He expected he would be- he was kind of worried inside himself (after all, he’d never been away from Sans longer than a couple of days…), but he thought Sans would just brush it off after the initial shock. He always did. Maybe it wasn’t’ the separation he was worried about, but the house arrest…? “IT WON’T BE THAT BAD, SANS.”

                Looking up from his phone, Sans blinked up at Papyrus. He wished he could be half as optimistic as his brother. He knew he couldn’t argue him- really, this whole mess was his fault, anyway. Papyrus could’ve been a police officer and he could’ve stayed out of house arrest for five months, but… as it stands, he’d already done what he’d done. There wasn’t any way he could take it back or change it. He just… had to be more mindful of his actions. “i know, paps. it’d be a _crime_ if i didn’t enjoy my time under house arrest.”

                Papyrus deadpanned. “NOT FUNNY, SANS.” He rolled his eyes before standing up, “BUT REALLY, MISS CHIEF ISN’T BAD AT ALL. I’M SURE YOU CAN MAKE FRIENDS WITH HER. I DID!”

                “might be a stretch for that one.” Sans forced himself up, straightening his jacket as he stood next to his taller brother. “after all, who _wouldn’t_ wanna be friends with you?” A confident grin flashed over Papyrus’s face, and just as he opened his jaw to respond, a knock interrupted his train of thought. Sans watched with a wistful grin as his brother left to get the door. He knew he’d be following eventually- Pap would definitely want him there while he announced the news to everyone but… for now, he just took in the look of the bare room.

                Downstairs, the living room gradually filled up, first with Undyne and Alphys, followed by Asgore, then Toriel and Frisk. The chatter was light and jovial- everyone was curious about the news, what was so utterly prominent that they all had to drop what they were doing to see. Only when things quieted down a little did Sans finally decide to head to the living room and drop himself on the couch. Papyrus straightened his spine, standing proudly at his full height as he cleared his throat to announce, “SO, MY FRIENDS! I AM GLAD TO TELL YOU THAT I…” He paused dramatically, looking from each curious gaze to the next, “AM ENROLLING IN THE SPECIAL TASKS FORCE!”

                Pleased gasps emanated in from the outside, “This is wondrous news!”  Asgore exclaimed, clapping his large clawed hands together joyously. He’d always been saddened that Undyne had found him unfit to join his Royal Guard, but this was a good opportunity for him to further his career and pursue the path he desired. If anyone truly deserved to do it, it was Papyrus. Undyne bounced up, throwing her arm around Papyrus’s shoulder, dragging him down slightly.

                “What the HECK, nerd? Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” Despite her gruff tone, Undyne was grinning, sharp teeth on full display. She was already glad when he’d gotten to enroll in the academy in the first place; she had prepared a storm of spears to demolish the station if they’d rejected him, but this was even better than she imagined! She was still worried that the humans would be too hard on him, but Papyrus was resilient, if nothing else.

                “I ONLY LEARNED JUST RECENTL—UNDYNE, _PLEASE_ DON’T NOOGIE ME!!” Papyrus whined but made no struggle to get from her grasp- at this point, it just felt nice to be surrounded by all this support. He wondered momentarily if this was just good karma for what he’d done, or if Miss Chief had actively decided to change your mind after he helped you. Well… maybe it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t have changed any of his actions, whether it was happenstance or not.

                “So, what is it that you _do_ in the Special Task Force?” Toriel asked, reaching over and giving Sans’s skull a comforting pat- he always seemed to enjoy it and Papyrus was occupied at the moment. “It must be a very important job.”

                “WELL, QUEEN TORIEL, THE SPECIAL TASK FORCE DOES THE MOST IMPORTANT OF JOBS!! THAT BEING…!” Papyrus paused, tapping his chin for a moment. “…I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA!” Miss Chief hadn’t told him much after he announced his joining to Sans, just that you were working on some paperwork and would need to see him soon. “I THINK I WOULD BE LEARNING THAT IN TRAINING.”

                Frisk tilted their head, pulling on Papyrus’s sleeve enough to get Undyne’s attention and letting him stand upright. They signed, ‘I thought you were already in training, Papyrus?’ Shouldn’t he already know what he was doing, even if he was in a slightly different branch?

                “I UM… WAS.” Papyrus sweated, “BUT THIS NEW TRAINING IS DIFFERENT! THIS ONE IS SO INTENSIVE AND ELITE I HAVE TO LEAVE EBOTT FOR FIVE WHOLE MONTHS!!” The silence after his statement was uncomfortable, like he’d something wrong but no one dared speak up to correct him. “BUT, NOT TO WORRY! I’LL SEND YOU ALL LETTERS ABOUT WHAT I’M DOING! IT’S NOT VERY LONG AT ALL.”

                As if to break the tension, Sans sat up, stretching his arms, “and we’re all super prouda you.” At this point, he knew he wasn’t the only one who was going to feel Papyrus’s absence, and in a way, it was comforting that he wouldn’t be entirely alone. “just remember to send your letters. wouldn’t want ‘em to stay _stationery._ ”

                Toriel snickered at the joke, unable to hold back her snort at the unexpected pun. The rest of the circle erupted into anguished groans or chortles themselves, and for now, the awkward air dissipated. “S-so when are you l-leaving, Papyrus? F-for your new training..?” Alphys pushed up her circular glasses, “W-we should do something special b-before you go…”

                Murmurs of agreement made Papyrus nod in agreement, “I WOULD LOVE TO! BUT… TOMORROW MISS CHIEF IS COMING OVER TO ENSURE ALL OF MY PAPERWORK IS IN ORDER AND THEN I’M LEAVING AFTER THAT.”

                “Why not include her in our activities?” Asgore suggested, setting Frisk on his knee as he glanced around the group. “Would it not be appropriate to include the one who trained you for such an opportunity?”

                Toriel nodded in agreement, “Yes, that would be a good idea! You have spoken very well of her, Papyrus.” Not to mention, it would likely be good for Frisk to spend more time with other humans- it wasn’t that they didn’t interact with them regularly, but Toriel felt it would be… helpful, in some capacity.

                “actually… the chief is probably pretty busy so it might be better to just leave her out of it…” Sans spoke up, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, “i mean, she’s got a whole station to run and papyrus’s paperwork on top of it…”

                “ _ACTUALLY_ , SHE’S BEEN OFF DUTY FOR THE PAST WEEK. I THINK SHE’D LIKE TO COME ALONG!” If your smile at him was any indication, there was a chance that you would actually accept and meet his family. Something in you wanted to open up, be with someone. He just had to get you to accept it, and if anyone could, it was definitely Papyrus. He understood that Sans wouldn’t want you along, but maybe they’d see that the other wasn’t so bad if he was there to mediate. Besides, they were going to be seeing a lot of each other, so maybe this would be a good point to restart your relationship and understand each other better.

                “Let’s have a cook out! I heard some of my students talking about one!” Undyne said, settling herself down next to Alphys, “We’ll have the _best_ food and I can go get drinks. No planning required.”

                Frisk raised their hand, before signing, ‘I really like that idea! You all make the best food and it’s at home so we can all be together.’ Their innocent smile was impossible to deny, so in the end, they all decided they’d go shopping and prepare for their celebration tomorrow.

 

                You sat in your bed, finishing your letter of recommendation for Papyrus. You knew a call to the Commander would likely be enough to secure him a position- Thomas was an old friend, after all, but you still felt obligated to go through the entire process. At this point, most of the paperwork was done and would need to be signed by the trainee himself, and you’d just have to forward it all.  Setting the papers aside, you let yourself sigh. Now that _that_ was through, you could let yourself relax- and it was weird, feeling the weight of today and yesterday finally sink in. Papyrus had seen you at a point you hadn’t shared with anyone else- and supported you whole-heartedly, despite what you’d done. It felt… odd, thinking of it that way. You crossed your arms over your eyes, unsure if you were more comforted by that fact or unnerved by it. You still didn’t understand how someone could be so completely kind and trusting. In a way you… admired it. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so wholly and completely trusting of someone- when you weren’t tainted by your cynicism. And it wasn’t that you wished to get rid of it; it served its purpose, but… you just couldn’t remember what such a kind world could’ve possibly looked like. You were right in thinking that Papyrus didn’t belong on the force- but not because he wasn’t capable or because he was a monster. It was because… he was simply too pure. Too good. He didn’t deserve to have his view tainted by the worst of society. Someone needed to protect him.

                …Not that _you’d_ be the one to. Signing him up for the STF was essentially signing his innocence onto death row. But… in a way, you hoped it’d be the opposite. That his positive world view would rub off on everyone around him and make the world a better place in the process. You hoped, for his sake, he wouldn’t experience the same things you did while you were on the Task Force. Those experiences could really change a person; make them jaded. Make them regretful. You hoped Papyrus wouldn’t feel that way after he got through training. You were pulled out of your thoughts when your cellphone vibrated against your side. You sat up, looking at the caller ID before hesitantly answering. “What is it, Papyrus?” You internally cringed at the harshness of your wording- it was simply second nature.

                “HELLO MISS CHIEF! I HOPE I DIDN’T WAKE YOU. ANYWAY, I WAS WONDERING IF YOU’D LIKE TO JOIN MY FAMILY FOR A COOKOUT TOMORROW!” You could practically hear Papyrus bouncing excitedly on the end of the phone, and his enthusiasm made you relax. He hadn’t taken your words negatively, though really, you shouldn’t have even expected him to.

                “…I don’t know, Papyrus. I don’t think I should…” You ran a hand through your hair- why were you feeling uneasy all of a sudden? You received countless offers like this from recruits or fellow offers; and you’d typically rejected them all politely. Was it because you didn’t have an excuse this time? Because you didn’t want to hurt his feelings after what he’d done for you?

                “YOU WOULDN’T BE INTRUDING. EVERYONE WOULD LIKE TO MEET YOU. ESPECIALLY FRISK!” You stayed silently as the audial equivalent of puppy dog eyes blared in your ears. “YOU HAVE TO MEET WITH ME TO SIGN THE PAPERS TOMORROW ANYWAY. _PLEASE,_ MISS CHIEF?”

                Damn. He made a good point. Of course, you could just go, get the paperwork in order and then leave, but you had a feeling that Papyrus wouldn’t let you escape that easily. _He_ knew you wouldn’t be going back into the station, and _you_ knew that all you’d be likely to do was stay in your house and binge watch whatever television series caught your eye. Besides… what do skeleton monsters eat? What did female skeleton monsters look like? This was probably your only chance to find out the answers to those questions. After a few silent moments, you cleared your throat. “I’ll be over with the paperwork at noon.”

                “SO… ARE YOU COMING??” Papyrus somehow managed to sound completely overjoyed at the most nondescript and avoidant answer you could’ve possibly given.

                “I’ll be there at noon.” You reconfirmed, leaning over the side of your bed to shut your lamp off. “Have a good night, Papyrus. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

                The next day seemed to fly by, and you were unsure if this was because you were dreading it, or looking forward to it. As you got ready, looking through the numerous drawers of casual clothes you rarely wore, you decided it was likely a mix of both. You could’ve just worn another one of your sweaters, thrown your hair into a ponytail and called it a day, but you decided it’d actually be proper of you to look somewhat presentable. If what Papyrus said was true and Frisk wanted to meet you, then it would be nice to at least _dress up_ for the Ambassador of all Monsterkind. Child or not, it was just polite. After deciding on an outfit for what had to be the fourth time, your phone let you know that it was time to go. Grabbing your purse and Papyrus’s file, you headed out the door to your car.

                Finding his home wasn’t too difficult, and things seemed relatively calm on the outside. All the discomfort that had been building throughout the ride ebbed away, and you pulled at your purse strap after you rang the bell. As much as you wanted to believe that you’d come early enough to avoid the influx of people that were bound to be here, you already heard the chorus of jubilant voices behind the door.

                “he-” You stared down at the eye lights that were looking back at you. Sans held the door open, but made no move to step aside and you made no move to enter. “oh.”

                You rejected the urge to roll your eyes and failed miserably. “Please, contain your enthusiasm. The neighbors might call in a complaint if you’re any louder.” You set your hand on your hip, but it did nothing to alleviate your irritation. At first, it was anxiety about being surrounded with other monsters, but you’d completely forgotten that _he’d_ be here, too.

                “if it brings any _other_ cop here, let ‘em.” Sans muttered, pulling at the edges of his jacket. He’d known you were coming- Papyrus was so excited when he’d gotten off the phone last night, but being faced with you made his magic simmer. It wasn’t quite as bad as when he’d learned you’d hurt Papyrus, but your tone… it was getting there.

                “Unfortunately for your brother, _any other_ cop wouldn’t have the forms he needs, so if you wouldn’t mind…?” You gestured with your hand, but kept your feet firmly planted where they were. It was odd- you’d be coming to this house frequently soon. You _thought_ you’d thought this through, but… damn. _This_ daily? No thank you. Maybe the bracelet would be a good enough deterrent and you could just let him be for the next five months. Your inner voice easily chided you, _that would completely defeat the point. Do your damn job._

                “look.” Sans leaned against the door frame, “ _you_ don’t wanna be here right now. _i_ don’t want you here. if you give me the forms, i’ll make sure they get signed, ok?” He could hear his brother cheerfully explaining the spaghetti could _most definitely_ be made on a grill and he was glad he was so distracted at the moment.

                “As much as I’d like to minimize my time in your presence, I have to witness him signing these forms. I can’t just pass them off. Why did you think I didn’t just forward them?” You hadn’t had time to observe the details on Sans before; prior to getting slammed against the wall, you just wanted him to leave and didn’t think much of him, but being faced with him now was certainly… interesting. He was much shorter than Papyrus- and yourself. Despite that, his bones seemed thicker than Papyrus’s somehow.

                “yeah, because _you’re_ a stickler for the rules, aren’tcha, chief?” He shoved one hand in his pocket and you were suddenly overly aware of how filthy that jacket was. It didn’t smell (at least, not that you could tell) but it had blotches and stains all over it- especially at the sleeves and around his pockets. You wondered for a moment if that was telling of their living conditions, but no- Papyrus was always spotless, and in fact would often clean your office when he was in there. It had to be just _him_ , then. “wouldn’t be the first underhanded thing you’ve done. why start following ‘em now?”

                At first, your heart leapt, and your fist clenched. How dare he? His eyelights scanning your body felt like tiny shocks that made your pulse spike. You opened your mouth to respond- to bite back, but then you realized he was _looking_ for that reaction. You saw that he was searching for that tension and you immediately released your breath and instead smirked down at him. “You’re awfully _mouthy_ to someone keeping you out of prison by doing what I’ve done.” You reached into your purse, pulling out the extra handcuffs you kept when you were off duty, “But if you’d _like…_ ”

                Sans sighed, wanting to swear at himself. This was the exact thing he should’ve been _stopping_ himself from doing. “ _alight._ ” He raised his hands in mock surrender, before opening the door fully and gesturing over his shoulder, “paps is probably out back.” He lead you in, trying to ignore the burn of his magic. The way it made his phalanges twitch, made him feel the need to grip something. Even tightening his hands into a fist wasn’t satiating the need like it normally did. It was that damn smirk. When he’d seen you before, you were nothing but collected. In control. Even when he’d tossed you against the wall, there was always some degree of poise. But _that_ smirk… that was malice he hadn’t seen since… He shook the thought. “you can sit on the couch. or stand.”

                You nodded absently, busying yourself with observing the home. Force of habit, you figured. It was cleanly and designed… _alright_ , you supposed. There was an odd photo of what appeared to be a femur just hanging on the wall, but everything else seemed to be normal. You sat down at the very edge of the couch, cradling your purse in your lap. It was strange; you couldn’t quite conduct yourself the way you would at a friend’s home, and you didn’t think it was proper to behave as if you were on a call, so all you could really do was sit stiffly and wait until Papyrus came back in.

                You watched Sans saunter out the back, and you took that moment to shuffle through the paperwork you’d brought with you. There had to be thirty pages, so it would take a little while to go through, but it had to be done. A tug on your sleeve brought you out of your thoughts and you looked up, being met with the gentle smile of a brown-haired child… and you simply melted.

                “Hi there, cutie.” You smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear, “Just who’re you?” Frisk’s joyful smile could’ve lit up the entire room.

                ‘My name is Frisk! Are you Miss Chief?’ They signed, and you took a moment to shake the rust from your sign language memory. You hadn’t used it much since you stopped responding to calls- you got ‘name’ and “Frk” and “chief”- but everyone knew the Ambassador’s name was Frisk.

                “Ambassador Frisk, right?” A nod confirmed it, and you beamed, “Yes, I’m (Y/N), the Chief of Police.” You extended your hand and gave the child a handshake. “Forgive me if it takes me a little while to respond to you, Frisk. I haven’t seen ASL in quite a bit.”

                ‘That’s okay! I’m happy you’re trying.’ Frisk set themselves down at your side and noticed immediately how your entire posture changed. It might’ve been subtle to someone who didn’t spend all their time looking at others, but it was crystal clear to Frisk. Your shoulders drooped, and you shifted the bag closer to the arm of the couch, opening yourself up more. Frisk giggled. Prime opportunity. ‘I know it’s my name, but I’d be happy to let you _Frisk_ me, Miss Chief!”

                You tilted your head, deciphering what the child had said before promptly flushing after realizing. “Wh-what?” W…was this child _flirting_ with you…? Through _police_ puns?? “I don’t th-think that’s, uh… Y-you shouldn’t…”

                Oh _man_. Frisk clutched their stomach trying to stop laughing. _That_ was adorable! That was probably the most extreme shift they’d seen since flirting with Tsunderplane. Frisk continued laughing as you turned even redder, more embarrassed as they laughed harder. Well… you’d kept your poise up for years, it was bound to be broken eventually. You just didn’t think it was a child flirting with you that was going to do it.

                “I hear laughter!” The large goat woman came from the kitchen, untying an apron as she did so. Her eyes immediately fell on the new face. “Oh? Who are you?” She smiled welcomingly, and tried to ignore how your demeanor shifted just slightly. It was to be expected- many humans were wary of monsters, though she wished they would not be so… obvious about it.

                “I’m (Y/N), the Chief of Ebott City Police.” You did your best to straighten yourself, hardening your tone the way you always did when speaking to adults. “Papyrus invited me.” You trailed off, bringing the papers you’d set on the arm of the couch back toward your chest.

                Toriel smiled. All humans seemed like children to her- she liked to think it was her age and not her size that caused such a thought. There was just something innocent about the way you sat next to Frisk, knees pushed together and using that paper like it was a guard. Maybe it was because you were still red-faced. “You do not have to explain yourself to me, Miss Chief.” She walked over, “Any friend of Papyrus’s is a friend of ours. I’m just glad to see you are getting along with Frisk.” You were beginning to wander if all monsters were going to call you ‘Miss Chief’. You didn’t particularly mind, but… you _did_ have a name. “I am Toriel. Please let me know if you need anything at all.”

                That… that was a phrase you hadn’t heard in a long time. You hadn’t heard it from your parents, from Casey, or even from the previous Chief- sure, Ron had offered it, but… he was technically your subordinate. You couldn’t use him as a crutch like that. Toriel just exuded an innate maternal affection and it made it difficult for you to be wary of her because of it. She just felt… _kind_. It was an odd, bittersweet feeling you got from that. You brushed it off with a slight smile and nod. “Thank you, Toriel. Likewise.” Toriel sat down next to Frisk and began recounting the day she’d met Frisk and their journey through the Underground.

                You were so wrapped up in Toriel’s storytelling you didn’t even notice when everyone else entered the room. The Underground was a topic many monsters didn’t speak about, so this was the first time you’d heard anything substantial about what it was like behind the barrier. From the way Toriel described it, the areas down there were beautiful, and unlike any other place you’d ever been.

                “MISS CHIEF, I’M SO GLAD YOU’RE HERE. I MADE YOU A SPECIAL PLATE OF SPAGHETTI!” He placed the plate of charred spaghetti in your hands and you traded the stack of papers with him. “I SEE YOU’VE MET FRISK AND TORIEL.” Papyrus pulled Undyne forward, showing her off, along with Alphys, “THIS IS MY BEST FRIEND UNDYNE AND HER DATEMATE ALPHYS!” You barely had the time to greet either of them before another large goat monster came up from behind him, easily overshadowing Papyrus.

                Wow. _That_ was one huge monster. “Oh, is this the Chief we have all heard so much about?” Asgore smiled down at you, extending his hand to you, “It’s nice to meet you, human.” You stared at his clawed hand for a moment, before timidly reaching out and shaking it. His hand completely engulfed your, and you had never felt so small in your life. “I am Asgore.”

                You blinked, staring up at him, before the name rang a bell, “Asgore, as in the **_King_** of all Monsterkind?” You’d never been the self-conscious type; it just wouldn’t help your in her position, but… he was royalty. You were shaking hands with the king of entire group and he was acting like it was completely and utterly mundane.

                His laugh was loud, booming, but somehow still… gentle? Comforting. His eyes were welcoming. Tired, but held no malice or ill-will. Even with his size, standing over you like you were a doll, he still seemed harmless. The ruler of entire race. “I am honored you have heard of me.”

                You hadn’t realized that you’d kept your hand locked with his until you broke his gaze, staring instead at the floor. “I don’t mean to be rude by staring. I’m (Y/N). I just… it’s nice to meet you,” You hadn’t had to consider it often, but you didn’t quite know how to conduct yourself around people in higher positions than you. It was easy to be collected and just watch, but… what did he consider rude? What were you supposed to say? Would upsetting him cause a diplomatic incident? “Y-Your majesty.” You added quietly.

                Asgore choked on his breath, but quickly recovered with a chuckle. “My goodness. No need for that, just ‘Asgore’ is fine, Miss Chief.” He released your hand, “I am sure we’ll be fast friends.” You looked up at him and gave a slight nod. Friends, huh? You’d met a variety of different monsters through your job, but none of them had been particularly happy or pleased to see you. It just came with the territory, and maybe it had jaded you toward them, even prior to what had happened with Casey. But… they were so normal it hurt. Toriel and Asgore were just so nice, nothing about them inspired fear in you. Papyrus, too. It felt horrible to realize what you’d done- discriminated against Papyrus for what he was. Even as you were in the process of attempting rectify your mistakes, it just made you feel guiltier.

                “…I’d like that, Asgore.”

“WOWIE ZOWIE, THAT WENT WELL!” Papyrus beamed at his friends. Now if only Miss Chief and Sans could get along like that. Well, they had the rest of the day to make that happen; as long as you didn’t decide to leave after he finished signing the papers, then they’d have the chance to make up and be friends. Papyrus tapped his chin in thought- well, if he didn’t sign the papers until the party was _over_ then, you’d _have_ to stay… Great plan, Papyrus! Master strategist. _This_ was why he was going into the STF.

“ _Ahh_ , enough of that! Let’s get to eating already!!” Undyne groaned, setting herself down with her plate, dragging Alphys onto her lap. Everyone else nodded in agreement, either settling down with their food or going to grab a plate if they hadn’t. You decided it’d likely be best to stay planted where you were- not only did you want to go wandering around Papyrus’s home, you also weren’t entirely sure if it was safe for a human to eat monster food. You’d heard something about it being infused with magic and as much as you wanted to overcome your bias, you… didn’t like the thought of magic in you that much. If Sans could throw you with it, then what was it doing in food? It just seemed better to keep it away from your mouth.

Things had passed relatively calmly; they all took turns telling their favorite tales and feats of Papyrus. It was fun to see this kind of approval and support. It was completely contrary to how you’d joined the STF- you only told Ron and then up and split for training, maybe sending a letter to your family once but hadn’t paid much attention, otherwise. You had kept an eye on the skeleton brothers especially, though- Papyrus, to ensure he was signing the correct things when he _was_ signing (for someone so excited to go, you definitely had to remind him to continue the paperwork every ten minutes…) and Sans because… why wouldn’t you? You wanted to make sure you knew his mannerisms before having to see him every day.

But you honestly couldn’t decipher much about him. Other than the obvious, he was a slob, and apparently not very active… he was likely just as guarded as you were. He would give the occasional joke, but mostly he would just watch with that constant, tired grin—and his wasn’t permanent in the same way that Papyrus’s was. His skull was… different- not necessarily more expressive, but perhaps more… flexible? You couldn’t quite describe it, but he was different. And you didn’t care _how_ relaxed everyone else was around him, how much Frisk liked him, the praises Toriel gave about his jokes, Papyrus’s declarations on how great of a brother Sans was, you didn’t trust him for a second.

You’d say Casey was also the _best_ brother, but that didn’t stop the fact that he was a member of an anti-monster group. Your love for him on a personal level was separate from you judging the morality of his actions. None of them, save for Papyrus, probably knew that Sans threw you against a wall so hard that he’d given you a concussion. That smile was a lie; something to make everyone underestimate him. His stature and lazy outward appearance just added to it. It was a good ruse, you probably would’ve fallen for it too had your initial meeting not ended with you momentarily forgetting your own name.

“ARE THERE ANY MORE PAPERS I NEED TO SIGN??” Papyrus hesitantly handed over the stack, and hoping you’d be willing to stick around a little longer- he noticed you’d been watching each other suspiciously the whole time, but refused to communicate otherwise. He needed to get you two to get along before he left- he didn’t want either of you to get hurt or… any other number of horrible things you could do to each other.

“No, Papyrus. I should go so I can forward them.” You stood up, stretching your legs just slightly, “Thank you for inviting me over. It was really nice meeting you all.” The pleasant goodbyes everyone offered you made you smile, and it made you actually want to see them all again, sometime. You headed toward the door, but, Papyrus followed behind you, sweating as he considered a new option.

“MISS CHIEF… UM…” He wanted to send Sans out with you, but he seemed asleep, or glued to his spot, at the very least. “CAN I WALK YOU TO YOUR CAR?” Peculiar question, but you didn’t deny his request. All the way out to the car, you couldn’t help but notice how Papyrus seemed anxious, mulling over his words before suddenly blurting once they reached your car. “CAN YOU DRIVE ME TO THE AIRPORT TOMORROW?? SANS CAN’T DRIVE!”

“…Oh, okay, Papyrus.” You folded your arms, “But… is that really what you wanted to ask?”

Papyrus sighed, slouching as he did so, “NO. I JUST WANTED TO ASK IF YOU COULD MAYBE BE FRIENDS WITH SANS?” Your facial expression answered his question long before you even took a breath to do so, “I KNOW THAT YOU TWO DON’T LIKE EACH OTHER, BUT SANS ISN’T BAD! I JUST WANT SANS TO BE ALRIGHT WHILE I’M GONE.”

Damn him for pulling at your heartstrings. Usually you were in defense mode- that kind of thing would only bounce off of you. They’d be nothing but words, but maybe… after seeing all of his friends, and how much he cared… it hit you somewhere in your chest. You’d wish the same thing of Casey, if you could. “I… I can’t promise we’ll be _friends_.” You sighed, “But… I’ll be… nice.” Maybe. If he earned it.

Papyrus looked slightly relieved, “I’LL TRY TO GET SANS TO UNDERSTAND, TOO. THANK YOU, MISS CHIEF.” His smile returned to normal, “I’LL SEE YOU TOMORROW, THEN, MISS CHIEF!”

“Of course, Papyrus. I’ll bring Ron to see you off, too.”

 

Dropping him off at the airport should’ve been the easiest part. Getting Ron, Papyrus and Sans all loaded into the car wasn’t an issue, they all seemed tolerant of each other. Things were great, peaceful even on the ride there, but as soon as the car stopped and everyone piled out to help Papyrus with his bags did things start slipping. First, it was the bright orange tears that Papyrus tried to hide (to no avail). That wasn’t _that_ bad; it made you feel horrible, sure, and no amount of ‘it’s not for that long’, or ‘you’ll get letters’, managed to make the sniffling subside, but it was bearable. Expected, even.  Ron helped pull all of the bags from the trunk and load them up on a trolley, and you decided it’d be best to give the brothers their space and went off to go find an airport map to help Papyrus plan his route.

At the car, Sans hugged his brother while he sobbed into his jacket. “hey, c’mon papy. this is nothin’…” He patted his back, and there was just soft muttering that Sans could barely make out as an ‘I’m going to miss you’. It speared him right through the soul to see Papyrus this way. He’d seen so much worse, shouldn’t this pain be nothing compared to that? _Why did it hurt so much?_ “you’re following your dream, right? this is what you wanted?”

“Yes…” The grip around him only tightened, and Sans couldn’t bring himself to pry him off. He only patted his skull, hoping that tightening in his chest would hold long enough so he could see him off with a smile.

“then you gotta let go…” He sure as hell couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t really mind if Papyrus changed his mind right now and they just went home and forgot about it. But, Papyrus wouldn’t do that; he’d let go eventually. And… Sans had no idea what he was going to do when he finally did. “you gotta let go…” He repeated softly, hoping maybe… he wouldn’t.

But he did.

Of course, he did, he knew he would. The instant he felt Papyrus’s grip on him loosen, he felt so lost. Papyrus stood up, wiping his eyesockets with the back of his sleeve. “I Love You, Sans…”

Hold it. _Hold it._ “…i love you, too, papyrus.” He felt the damn breaking, shattering like the barrier, and he bowed his head, hoping it would shield the bright cyan tears that slid down his cheekbones, “do your best, bro.”

Papyrus lingered there, hovering like he wanted to hug him again, but he knew if he did that he may not be able to let go a second time. Instead, he watched Sans slide back into the car, and pull up his hood. He didn’t take offense at all; he might’ve done the same. Instead, he walked over to where you and Ron stood, having checked his bags for him, and took the map and ticket from you.

“Thank You Both…” He didn’t even know what to say. He’d had an entire farewell speech plotted out, practiced it in the shower, but right now… just nothing. He was happy, but… he felt like he’d just ripped half of his soul out and it was trapped with Sans.

“No problem, Papyrus.” Ron said with a thumbs up, patting the skeleton on the shoulder. He was glad he had this opportunity and he’d been approved. This could only spell good things for him. He did his best to ignore the tears still fresh on his face. Looking at him like that made him sad, too.

Ron headed back toward the car, leaving you alone with Papyrus. You stared at each other quietly for a moment before you ran a hand through your hair.

“Make me proud, Papyrus.” You reached out, giving him a tight hug. He had to reject the urge to start sobbing again to hug you back.

This was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A 'lil hate flirting with Sans, getting flirted with by Frisk and the Chief might be a little bit impressed with Asgore. I know I am. I love that furry dad. I'm going to write about him some day, mark my words.


	9. Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans starts his house arrest, and a lot of water seems to be involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get worse before they get better.

 

The ride back was uncannily silent, almost intentionally so, as if to call even more attention to Papyrus’s absence. Sans kept himself tucked in the backseat, staring out the window, using his sleeve to muffle his occasional sniffles. He thought the sting would lessen the further they got from the airport, but the pain spearing his ribcage refused to subside, embedding itself in him like a thorn.  Stars, this was much harder than he thought it was going to be. It had never even occurred to him that he had never said goodbye before. It was different, finding Papyrus dusted- he knew when it was going to happen, and though having that knowledge didn’t make it hurt any less, it still… was _expected_. But knowingly parting? Forcing a separation like this? He never had to do that before. Even if it was temporary, he already felt like a piece of him was missing- a machine running without a cog, a bike without a chain. It just _wasn’t right._

Only when the car pulled into the lot did Sans pull himself together, straightening himself up as he wordlessly opened the door, and made his way to his house. He wished he could ignore Ron striding up to his side, one hand stuffed casually in his pocket and the other resting on his door knob before Sans got the chance to reach for it himself. “I know you’re probably a little shaken right now, Sans, but I just wanted to let you know that starting tonight you’ll be under house arrest.” Sans closed his eyes, exhaling slowly.

“give it _arrest,_ won’t ya? i remember the deal. i’m not going anywhere.” He honestly couldn’t tell if that strained smile on Ron’s face was from the pun or something else. He watched Ron slowly lift his hand from the doorknob, but noticed he stayed fixed where he was.

After a moment, Ron spoke up again, throwing a glance over his shoulder before looking Sans in the eyelights. It was an intense, yet honest look he gave him; not particularly hostile, but he wouldn’t call it… friendly either. The looks Ron gave _Papyrus_ were friendly, this one was more… professional, if nothing else. “Listen, I know what happened with the Chief. I know what you did to her…” Ron’s tone shifted, dropping an octave as he spoke. He straightened his back and took a step toward the car, “What I’m saying is… Don’t make us regret this, _alright?_ ”

It annoyed him, that they wouldn’t even give him a _day_ to get accustom to Papyrus’s absence. Did they think he wasn’t already kicking himself over that? There was an uncomfortable feeling worming its way through his ribs, down his spine, slipping in between the little spaces throughout his vertebral column; it was the realization that Marks was actually treating him like a _criminal_. People were rarely wary of him; monsters from all across the Underground recognized him, and most humans were charmed by his comedy, or at the very least, completely underestimated him. He always preferred it that way, but… to be looked at with scrutiny? To be _judged_? Stars, this all felt backwards. “…sure thing, ‘ficer.”

Marks didn’t drop his guard, keeping his shoulders squared and eyes alert. That relaxed and cordial demeanor he’d seen at the festival completely gone, and it made Sans feel… isolated. He supposed that was only right; neither of the officers were there to be friendly, and he didn’t particularly want them to be either, but it was still odd to feel so uneasy in (or _near_ , rather) his own home. “Good. I’m glad you understand. Head inside, then. (Y/N) and I will be back tomorrow to go over your house arrest more in depth with you.”

Sans gave a single nod before opening his door, and glancing over his shoulder before he closed it. Meeting the Chief’s eyes was unexpected and made his magic simmer, like it _always_ did when he looked at you. He clenched his fist, recalling that night you’d met, the calm you faced him with, the dissonance you caused in his soul. It was nothing but noise, a droning static that came over him, blaring, _constant, **maddening.**_ He didn’t like you; not _just_ because you’d hurt Papyrus, but _something_ about you rubbed him the wrong way. He slammed you against the wall, threatened your life, and you _called him on it_. You made him pause. _Freeze._ He wasn’t sure if it was your harsh outward demeanor, that it clashed with his typical carefree one, that you were just opposite everything he was, but he _hated you._ **His SOUL despised you.**

He wasn’t sure if it had been hours he stared at you for, or a few seconds, but he blinked once, and the world was restored. The color had seeped back into his vision and that static had dissipated into the world around him. Everything was back in sync, and he took that moment to shut the door, resting his hand over his sternum.

This was going to be a _very_ long five months.

 

Back at the car, you watched as Ron sent Sans off on his way. It was unremarkable in every way, standard procedure, you figured. It was when the skeleton turned to go into his house when something forced your to gaze onto his. Something… internal, it just nagged at you, making every cell in your body crawl, itch until you met those pinpricks of light. Peculiarly enough, he didn’t break the eye contact- his eyes bore into yours until the lights in his sockets vanished and made the tingles that had crawled up your back return in full force. The sensation creeping into your chest, constricting your lungs was repulsive, enough to invoke the memory of slamming into your office wall, of the heaviness permeating your soul. You felt your breathing slow; a trained reaction to anger or panic. A reaction that prevented you from overreacting, from making any unnecessary moves; the reaction that kept you calm. Your fist clenched in your lap unconsciously. _He_ was this sensation; he was repulsive, unruly and impulsive.* Dangerous.

                The sound of the car door slamming shut startled you from whatever abyss that skeleton had dragged you into and you glanced at Ron, noting he seemed normal. If that was magic- which… you didn’t think it was, it was just too… _internal_ for it to be- then he’d only done it on _you._ For some reason, that was… more comforting. You trusted Ron, but you’d much rather face whatever magic he threw out yourself, instead of letting Ron be subject to it. It was what a good superior would do. “I don’t think he’s all that bad, Chief. He should be easy to deal with.”

                You gave him an incredulous look, but decided it’d look childish if you argued him on it. “We’ll have to be cautious now that Papyrus is gone.” From what you could tell, Papyrus was Sans’s anchor; it’d be hard to convince him of anything without him being here. Hopefully though, none of that would even be necessary and everything would be calm for the next five months. That was wishful thinking, of course, but that’s all she had to keep you sane for right now.

               

                Returning to Sans’s home the next day was easy enough. You were finally allowed back on duty again, so you were at ease in your uniform. Ron loitered at your side as you knocked on the door, waiting for the short skeleton to answer. It was only a few minutes before the door swung open, and both officers were greeted by the disheveled mess of a monster. You raised a brow, but folded your arms, “Are you ready to talk or should we come back in five minutes?”

                “ ‘d prefer it if you didn’t come back at all, really.” Sans yawned, burying his face in his sleeve.

“Points for honesty, but unfortunately, it’s not in my job description to care for your preferences.” You tapped your foot, and Sans chuckled dryly seeming to wake up.

                “then why’d you even ask?”  Sans’s eyelights lit up, but the permanent grin on his skull faltered a bit, “seems a little _cop-_ riciou _s_ to me.”

                You deadpanned. “Wow. Absolutely hilarious. Sadly, I’m incapable of laughing at felons’ jokes, no matter how good their puns are.”

                “wish i could say i was disappointed, but if i did, you’d have to take away those points you gave me.”

                Ron looked between the two of you, lingering somewhere between amusement and genuine concern. He’d never really seen people talk back to you, aside from himself- and even when _he_ did it, it was usually in jest. This time though, there was a notable bite to your words, completely lacking the affection in your voice when you got sarcastic with him. For both of their sakes, Ron stepped in, placing a gentle, but warning hand on your forearm. “Let’s get to the rules before we forget why we’re here.”

                You glanced at him, eyebrows furrowing before you averted your gaze, folding your arms across your chest. “Of course.” Your tone was clipped, and despite Ron’s desperate look, you refused to say anything more for the time being.

                “right. come ‘n.” Sans forced himself to open the door, stepping backward to let the officers into his home. Just as yu did before, Ron scanned the area, and only spoke again once the door was shut behind them.

                “Well,” Ron began, looking between his superior and the skeleton- overly aware of the tension in the air. It was a strange mix of hot and cold; coming from each of them respectively. He had long since gotten used to the your heated glare- anyone who was near you for any amount of time _had_ to get used to it- but it wasn’t something you used on civilians typically. Sans’s look wasn’t much better; an icy glower thinly veiled with that usual grin on his skull. It was just… uncomfortable. Completely unsettling. Ron cleared his throat, drawing both of your attention, “Since you’re not documented, we have to handle you in a slightly different way than we would most people under house arrest.”

                Sans nodded, meandering his way over to his couch, dropping himself down on it, but glanced back at the two to show he was listening. Ron continued on, “Your activity must be monitored, and considering Papyrus is no longer around, that will be by _us_ exclusively. Any communication with friends or anyone but us or Papyrus is strictly prohibited, electronic communication included.” Ron opened up the case he’d brought with him, with a sort of ease that indicated repetition, “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to…”

                Sans sat up, spine going rigid as he scooted away from the officer, “wait, what’s that?” The reality of human law hit him like a truck, and he _really_ didn’t like it. He didn’t realize he’d be completely _banned_ from communicating with other people. And… _collared?_ Stars, what even _were_ humans? He ignored the sweat trickling down his spine in order to watch Marks carefully.

                Ron didn’t bother looking up, while he pressed a few buttons on the device, “This is an ankle monitor.” The blasé statement didn’t make Sans feel any better. “It’s necessary to ensure your location.” Sans’s eyelights dilated as Marks approached him until he looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

                “look guys, i’m not going to go anywhere. you really don’t need to-”

                “You must think I’m an idiot.” You suddenly barked at him, “You think I don’t remember your disappearing act?” Sans swore at himself under his breath. Fuck, _he’d_ forgotten about doing that. He forced himself to sit still as Ron attached the bulky bracelet to his leg. He stared at it, already annoyed at its presence.

                “Your location will be broadcast directly to us in real time,” Ron continued to explain, returning to your side, “The only times you’ll be allowed to leave is under one of our supervision- so trips to the store or wherever else you absolutely need to be will be done with us.”

                “so… is that it…?” Sans asked tepidly, hoping the answer would be yes and they would leave him. He wondered if Papyrus realized that this is what he was going to be subjected to when he agreed to this, because _he_ sure as hell didn’t know.

                “Phone.” You extended your hand to him expectantly. Sans reached into his pocket, resisting the urge to toss it at you, and instead used his magic to place it in your hand. The way you stiffened slightly at the blue tint that surrounded the phone gave him an immeasurable amount of pleasure- especially in this situation. He made a note that he’d be using his magic a lot more for mundane things…

                Once the phone was in your hands, you proceeded to start an override process on it. It was a peculiar application which needed your exact code to be taken off. It still functioned properly, it just limited its capability with social sites and numbers that weren’t yours, Ron’s, or the regular police’s. After you were done, you set it down on the arm of the couch.

                “Well, that should be all…” Ron said, looking to you to validate his statement. You both had already set ground rules, there shouldn’t be anything else, right? “Oh. Unless you need food right now? We could take you out shopping for the week.” The glare he received from you practically burned through his skull, but he forced himself to ignore it. Someone in this group needed to be the neutral party, and judging by the looks you both sent each other, it definitely had to be him. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to do as good as a job as Papyrus would’ve, but they’d get along.

                Sans, at first, was going to deny the offer. He had all of Papyrus’s spaghetti in the fridge, and he could just go to Grillby’s—but, then he remembered he definitely _couldn’t_ do that. Couldn’t call in anything, either, it seemed. “… _actually_. i do.” He forced himself up, offering a half-hearted shrug, “shouldn’t be too much, though.”

 

**_Sans was a goddamn liar._ **

                You never really understood how parents felt at toy stores before this, but now that you had an idea, you completely understood those mothers who looked done with life. You leaned against the cart, watching as Sans dropped piles of junkfood- both human and monster, apparently- until the pile threatened to topple over into the aisle. Any other situation, you may have found it amusing, but right now it felt like a waste of time. The mix of things in this cart was atrocious, to put it bluntly. It was mostly TV dinners or packets of marshmallows and chips. This is the sort of thing you would’ve done in your freshman year of college—wasn’t Sans supposed to be the older of the two? You didn’t know if monsters digested food differently or what, but this couldn’t have been healthy. You didn’t see a single vegetable in that cart, and you had been watching the entire time.

                “alright, i’m good now.” Sans sauntered back over, and you gave Ron a look that he could only internally translate as ‘this is your fault’.

                “Well,” Ron said, pushing the cart toward the front of the store, “It’s good you have everything, then.” You trailed behind the two, picking up a soda as they passed through the aisle. If he could eat nothing but junk, then you deserved this for your troubles. “Do you have room for all of this stuff, Sans?”

                The skeleton shrugged slightly, “dunno.” He had just dumped things in there at random. Grillby’s was great, and so was Papyrus’s spaghetti, but getting to choose what he wanted? Nice. Not to mention, he had to enjoy his time out of the house now. He really only needed a quarter of the things he got, but if they wanted to accompany him out, they’re going to have to deal with being dragged around on long and mostly superfluous shopping trips.

                “…You _don’t know?_ ” You echoed from behind the two. He was seriously testing your nerves, “So you just dumped all of this in to waste our time.”

                “yep.”

                Ron choked on his breath- he hadn’t expected him to be so blunt about it. If he hadn’t been on duty, it would’ve been kind of funny though. “Sans, you realize that as police, our time is a very important resource—you can’t just do that.” He felt the anger rolling off of you in waves from behind him, so he did his best to diffuse the situation.

                “oh, so you’re _policing_ my time grocery shopping? i guess i’ll organize things better next time so you don’t get _listless._ ”

                _Smug bastard._

 

A week after the shopping trip, you and Ron finally stopped visiting him together and would check on him independently. Sans preferred it when Ron came- after his initial warnings, he was pretty friendly and would sometimes offer to take him places if he was off duty. It felt like a godsend. You, on the other hand, would knock on the door, check if he was alive and then promptly leave- which, he didn’t mind so much, most of the time.

Today should’ve been like the rest; he had started the habit of pulling little pranks on you- whoopee cushions, cut-outs of bugs on the door knob, a balloon set to pop once she opened the door (your reaction to that one was priceless), and this time was the classic- the bucket of water over the door. He knew for a fact if he took too long to answer the door, you’d just open it yourself and this time, he was banking on it.

You began unlocking the door after a few minutes of waiting. Today had been a long day, and honestly checking on Sans was the final hurdle. All you had to do was ensure Sans was still here, make sure he didn’t need any food and then you could go pass out at home (what, were you watching a _pet_ or a dangerous criminal? You forgot yourself sometimes…). You chuckled to yourself; of course you’d _say_ you’d go to sleep, but your work didn’t stop once you clocked out. Your mind would be thinking of details and looking for answers to questions until you died. Well, at least today, you’d finally received the trace from the mysterious text tip about the festival, so if you were going to worry about work, at least it wasn’t something mundane. Not to mention, you’d received a letter from your old Commander, detailing Papyrus’s progress and how he was a handful- but a positive edition to the recruits. There was also a second letter slipped in, with ‘MISS CHIEF, PLEASE GIVE THIS TO SANS’ scrawled across the top. You were glad Papyrus was making such a good impression on that tight-ass, Thomas. STF training was no walk in the park. You didn’t write _your_ first letter until a month in. So, all in all, despite being a long day, you were in a pretty good mood.

…Until water soaked you the second you opened the door. What. The. Fuck.

Your body went instantly rigid as the cold water seeped through your uniform and made your hair cling to your face. You’d noticed the pranks Sans set up (and really didn’t find them amusing), and thought if you ignored it, he’d get bored and just quit. You glared at the grinning skeleton, who only held up his phone and snapped a few pictures.

                “heya, chief. _water_ you standing over there for? come on in.” For someone who smiled all the time, you never thought you’d be able to tell the difference between his facial expressions- but _that_ was a shit eating grin if you’d ever seen one.

                You felt your fist clench at your sides, and took a moment to close your eyes. _In. Out. In. Out._ It didn’t matter how much you slowed your breathing down, your veins were on fire. You opened your eyes and took a look at the monster. A skeleton, just like Papyrus- and if there was something you recalled about Papyrus, it was that he was incredibly light for being so large. You neutralized your expression, shutting the door behind you. He wanted you to come in? God, he was going to _regret that statement._ The first step toward him, he stiffened, but didn’t move, the second, his eyelights shrunk, and once you were standing right in front of him, they were gone entirely. You stared at each other wordlessly for a moment, and it was merely a second before you grabbed his wrist and tossed him face down onto the couch, “ _Do you think this is a joke?_ ” You twisted his arm into a hammer lock, holding him down with your body weight. “Do you this this is **_funny_**?”

                You barely realized how close to him you were; getting close to dangerous people was just business as usual, but Sans noticed it.

                Stars, did Sans notice.

                The magic in his body spiked, making every inch of him feel… aware. On edge. It was just like the first time, only this time, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t even get his hand free to get you off. His soul was burning in his sternum, an intense build that made his entire body heat up, and it only made it that much worse when the water dripped off of you and onto him. He shifted his arm slightly, trying to free it from your grasp, but it only made your grip tighten on him. “i do, actually.” He murmured after a moment, “i think _you’re_ hilarious.” He heard you scoff, an annoyed noise that made that heat emanating from his soul more intense.

                “And I think _you’re_ a criminal, but I’m not making a show of _you_ every day.” You disliked him, sure, but Papyrus had requested you be nice to him. It was a challenge. In fact, you were failing, and you _knew_ it. But you made a deal with him, and that’s the only reason Sans wasn’t locked away right now.

                “that’s _exactly_ why you’re a joke.” Sans’s voice lowered, the timbres of his baritone striking you inside. His tone always lingered in you a little longer, penetrated places that sound just… wasn’t meant to. That damn voice. It made you shake, but you didn’t loosen your grip on him. You weren’t risking another concussion for that. “you’re a cop, _aren’t you?_ yet you got rid of my brother and let someone who you think is _dangerous_ back out into society because of your own bias. you’re ‘sposed to be _protecting_ people and you even fail by your own standards.”

                “Shut up.” The icy tone spurred him on, even though it made the heat unbearable.

                “and then you try to atone, but whaddya think you’re really fixing? think it makes you suddenly not racist because you signed your name on some papers? ‘cause tori and asgore were nice to you? hate to burst your bubble, buddy, but they’re nice to everyone. you aren’t better ‘cause you’ve got a title and a badge. your sins don’t get a pass. **you’re still dirty.** ”

                He felt your grip go slack, and he took that moment to pull his arm out, and push you back so he could sit up. The distance made him feel better; the static dispersed and he could breath. His soul still vibrated; and he almost didn’t realize how vibrantly it was glowing until he looked at you, noting the cyan glow in the water droplets, bathing the both of you in the light from his chest. Neither of you moved until the light receded. You were the first to break the pensive truce, reaching into your bag and putting the letter on the table.

                And then you left.

                Sans watched you go, but once the door closed, put his hand over his chest. He’d never seen his soul glow that brightly before- it was rare for the light to shine through his shirt, let alone light the entire room. What the hell _was_ that? After a second, he finally shuffled over to the table to pick up the envelope you’d set down.

                Sitting down on the couch, he unfolded the paper and immediately recognized it as Papyrus’s handwriting.

                ‘ _HELLO, SANS!!_

_IF YOU’RE READING THIS, THEN YOU MUST HAVE GOT THE LETTER FROM MISS CHIEF, WHICH MEANS YOU TWO MUST BE ON SPEAKING TERMS! I HOPE YOU TWO ARE GETTING ALONG. ANYWAY!! I’VE STARTED TRAINING WITH COMMANDER THOMAS BROWN. HE REMINDS ME A LOT OF UNDYNE. I’M NOT ALLOWED TO DETAIL A LOT OF WHAT I’VE BEEN DOING, HE SAYS IT’S CLASSIFIED, AND THAT AFTER I’M DONE WITH TRAINING I’M GOING TO HAVE A FAIRLY HIGH CLEARANCE LEVEL. IT’S ALL VERY FUN, BUT ALSO KIND OF SCARY. REMEMBER HOW THERE WERE GUNS IN SOME OF ALPHYS’ CARTOONS? THEY’RE A LOT LOUDER IN PERSON. A LOT OF PEOPLE HERE ARE VERY SERIOUS. I THINK I UNDERSTAND WHY MISS CHIEF IS HOW SHE IS. THERE ARE TEAM LEADERS AND SOMETIMES WHEN WE GO OUT, PEOPLE GET HURT. I USE MY HEALING MAGIC, SO IT MAKES IT EASIER, BUT BEING TAKEN SERIOUSLY MEANS LESS MISTAKES. THEY JUST WANT TO KEEP EVERYONE SAFE. SPEAKING OF MISS CHIEF, COULD YOU DO ME A FAVOR?? MISS CHIEF HAS LETTERS, COULD YOU ASK TO READ THEM TO HER? I THINK IT WILL MAKE YOU BETTER FRIENDS. IT WORKED FOR ME._

_ANYWAY… I MISS YOU, SANS. IT’S HARD THAT NO ONE HERE IS LIKE YOU. THEY CAN ALL TAKE OF THEMSELVES, AND IT MAKES ME FEEL A LITTLE LOST SOMETIMES. BUT! I AM ENJOYING MYSELF. I FEEL MORE PRESTIGIOUS ALREADY! SOON, I’LL BE ABLE TO SEND LETTERS DIRECTLY TO YOU. TELL FRISK AND UNDYNE I MISS THEM!_

_-LOVE THE GREAT AND CAPABLE CADET, PAPYRUS’_

 

                When you got into your house, the slam of your front door echoed through the house. What were you even supposed to think about that? Disregard it, because he’s obviously bias against you himself? Well, you couldn’t. In a way, he was _right_ and you couldn’t stand him for it. You were trying, for fuck’s sake. That ungrateful little bitch should’ve been _glad_ you didn’t throw his ass in prison and bury the key! He didn’t know _you,_ didn’t know what it took to be chief, what you’d personally been through. What gave him the damn right?

                And on top of that, what was that light? You’d seen the color before- his eye was the same cyan once, but that light was different than his magic. It didn’t affect you, you just… saw it. If you knew anything about monsters, then it probably had something to do with the soul, but… Papyrus didn’t glow like that. None of the monsters you’d ever met did that. You forced the thoughts away. Thinking about it would only upset you more…

                                **Y o u ‘ r e  s t i l l  d i r t y .**

                You froze, putting your hand over your chest. What did he know? How could he possibly think he had any semblance of a right to judge you? Even if he was only talking about what you’d done to Papyrus, you couldn’t help but feel old scars burn at the memory of his voice, resonating through your body; if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were hollow inside. Small tingles that escalated into pricks which evolved into scratches on your skin, worsening until you showered to try and scrub them away manually. You knew they were old regrets, bubbling up from the inside, but maybe, you hoped, you could finally scald them off for good. No luck with that, though. You were still stained.

                God, you’d made a mistake by recommending Papyrus for the Special Task Force.

                Your actions would never be rectified, your decisions never atoned for. He didn’t belong there, _you_ got out. You leaned your palm against the tile wall, hoping it would ground you enough to pull you from this spiral. That monster didn’t know what he was talking about, right? What did Sans actually know about regrets? Everyone had regrets. Just because _he_ didn’t forgive you for yours, didn’t mean you didn’t atone for them, right? Right. Right…

                You could think circles around yourself with this logic, and you did, for an hour. But no matter how much you justified your decisions, or scrubbed your body, the whispers of old memories and the sting of buried regrets stayed embedded just underneath your skin.

 

 

                You stared out of the window, watching the sky darken as you tapped your pen against your desk. The forecast had called for storms; it had been off and on throughout the day, but it looked like the storm had finally decided it was here to stay. Which, you didn’t mind too much. Other than driving home in it, storms were somewhat of a comfort to you. Maybe you’d finally be able to sit at home and relax for once.

                Just as the thought crossed you, a knock came at your office door as if to give credence to Murphy’s law. “It’s me, Chief.” The door swung open, and you tilted your head at Ron’s entrance. You immediately noticed he was tense, but you decided maybe if you ignored that, then nothing would actually be wrong this time. Things had been going slightly better over the week. All the rioters had been placed in juvenile detention centers, they traced the number the text was sent from. Please don’t let anything be wrong. Just this once.

                “What is it?”

                Ron chuckled, scratching his neck as he took mental note of the edge in your voice. You hadn’t said anything, but the warning was there- ‘ _if you can fix this yourself, **do it.**_ ’ But, unfortunately for you, he’d been around long enough to have a pass every once in a while. “I know today was my day to drop in on Sans, but Miranda said she needed me at the house so… you know.”

                Exasperated was too great of an understatement for the look you sent him. Defeated came a little closer, but he could just feel the utter disappointment being shot at him. In the form of knives. At his face. “I’d demote you for this if I could.”

                Ron leaned against your desk, smiling apologetically. “That’s harsh, don’t you think? He’s not _that bad_ , (Y/N). He’s actually pretty funny.” The stony look he received in response told him enough about your relationship. If you hadn’t told him what Sans had done, he’d never believe that he was capable. He was just a cool guy all around, really. “Have you even _tried_ talking to the guy?”

                “Do you make it a habit to befriend every criminal under your care, Ron? If so, I really _might_ have to reevaluate your position.”

                “No need to get snarky. But really. I know what he did to you was horrible, but don’t you think if someone hurt Casey-?” You lifted your hand to cut him off, and he stopped the sentence immediately. You remembered the similarities you drew the first time. You didn’t want to be reminded by anyone else. Ron sighed; he’d get through to you eventually. “Well, alright. But try to take it easy today. And drive carefully, it’s already pouring.”

                Once the door to your office shut, you just exhaled, laying your forehead against the desk.

                The drive there was bad enough, and to make matters worse, he took an entire millennium to answer the door. You held the umbrella, but found it was mostly for show at this point, the angle the rain was coming down at and the splash back from the ground had you drenched the instant you stepped out of the car.

                When Sans answered the door, you immediately saw his eyelights shrink, and in some way, that disappointment made you feel better. You didn’t want to be here either; he deserved every negative feeling he got from this. “oh. hey.”

                “Don’t waste my time. Do you need anything?”

“…nah.” Sans looked behind you, eyebrow bones furrowing at the storm raging outside. You found his straightforward answer so jarring, that you actually hesitated.

“What?”

“i thought you didn’t want to waste time?” He stepped backward before he could even really comprehend why he was doing it. “if you’re gonna talk, y’should at least do it in here.”

You could’ve left. You _should’ve_ left, so why did you willingly step inside? You glanced at the door once it was shut, and stared at him suspiciously. He didn’t seem like he usually did when it was just you. Other than your initial greeting, he was avidly avoiding your gaze. And oddly enough, you preferred it that way. It made it easier to look at him, to not feel so defensive. You… didn’t feel _so_ threatened by him. “…Are you _sure_ you don’t need anything?”

“you sound like you care.” His statement wasn’t overtly sarcastic, or aggressive. If anything, it was just flat. Like he said it with the intent to incite your anger and it just… fell through. Like he gave up halfway into it. “told you ‘m fine. you can go if you want.”

After a second, you turned around, opening the door up.

 **BANG!  
**                 You jumped back as the door slammed shut; and you weren’t entirely sure if it was the thunder you’d heard first or the sound of everything leading to the outside being closed at once. With the blinds drawn and doors shut, you turned back to look at the skeleton. He hadn’t moved, but he could’ve been a statue, with how rigidly he was standing. Shoulders squared, hands shoved deep into the pockets, and eyes cast guiltily aside. Somehow, in the dark, the glow of his eyelights seemed… innocent, almost. Maybe it had to do with how large they looked, or how he refused to meet your gaze. It… reminded you of babysitting Casey during storms like this. You always loved them, but Casey was mortified, but was always too proud to admit it.

“The television helps drown out the sound.” Your hands dropped in front of you, locking there as some sort of makeshift guard.

“…right. thanks.” He walked over to the couch and sat down, turning the television on, though he was obviously still uncomfortable. Another crash of thunder made him stiffen visibly and you honestly didn’t think that was possible.

You walked over to the arm of the couch, leaning against it while staring at the television. “That thunder was 23 seconds from the last one.”

“…why were you counting?” He looked up at you, and you immediately averted your attention when he did.

“Intervals between thunder helps determine if the storm’s getting further or closer.” You watched the television absently, trying to ignore his eyes on you. “If the next one’s longer than 23 seconds, then it’s letting up.” You were shocked at how quickly he just seemed to accept that. You figured it was his nerves, but when you glanced down at him, he seemed to be mentally counting the seconds. When the thunder shook the house again, Sans chuckled nervously.

“…19 on that one.”

You made a small, noncommittal noise before pushing yourself off the arm of the couch. “Well, if you’re okay, I’m leaving.”

“there’s uh… no need to _storm_ off, heh…” Sans buried himself in his hoodie, looking somewhere between terrified and amused. You weren’t sure if it was pity that you felt for him or what, but you sighed, sitting down on the opposite edge of the couch. It probably wasn’t safe to be driving in that, anyway. That justification didn’t make his pun any more bearable, however.

The television proved to be a capable distraction for a while. You weren’t particularly engaged in the astrology show, but the sound of the torrential downpour and thunder put you at ease. Your attention was always garnered by the vibrant strikes of lightning illuminating the world outside just outside the blinds. It disappointed you that you couldn’t see it due to the lights in the house.

That was quickly resolved, though. After a particularly violent crash of thunder, the house was submerged in complete darkness; Sans’s eyelights being the only light source around. You didn’t need to see to sense how he clutched at the couch cushions. It would’ve almost been amusing if it wasn’t so… sad. “So, there weren’t storms Underground?”

“no.” Sans said slowly, “the weather was predictable, since it was all generated by the CORE. not much of a water cycle down there.”

You didn’t know what the CORE was and weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to ask. You drummed your fingers against your thigh, only getting a flash of Sans when the lightning snapped a photo of the dark room. Well, if you were going to use all the old clichés, might as well do it fully. “When I was younger, I used to have indoor camping trips with my brother during storms like this.” He didn’t respond, but the darkness coaxed you to keep talking. “We’d gather all the pillows and blankets we could find and make a fort out of them.”

“sounds pretty… in _tents._ ”

“…Ron said you were funny. I’m starting to question his judgement.”

“well with a _blanket_ statement like that, you can’t a _fort_ to put too much weight into his opinions.”  His puns made you want to risk the storm. The rain couldn’t have been worse than his puns. It just couldn’t.

“ _Look, do you want to build the fort or not?_ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chief shows her maternal sides! She hides them in order to assert her authority, but she can't really help it. She was essentially a mom to Casey. Sans needs to eat his damn vegetables.
> 
> I've been so excited for this scene. I'm sad that I split it in half, but it'll be continued in Chapter 10. Also, a question of aesthetic, would this story look better if I added spaces between the paragraphs? I heard somewhere that people prefer that, I just didn't want to make the pages look longer than they really are.


	10. And Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You build the fort and have a chat. Several, really. Some that go better than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So!! I have a question-- how do you all feel about several Sans fluff chapters? SotM has a plot somewhere, but I was going to derail it for the next few chapters for just Chief and Sans doing things. This story was mainly written for the relationship, after all.

For a moment, the sound of the house creaking against the wind and the rain beating down on the window was the only noise either of you could hear. And in that second, you felt yourself falter. You, the Chief of Ebott City Police were… offering to build a pillow fort… with a dangerous felon monster… “Or we could just sit here. Your choice.” You murmured, shifting against the arm of the couch, keeping your attention on the dark window. 

                “…no, i want to.” The sound of Sans shuffling past you caught your attention, “sheets are upstairs, if you wanna carry ‘em with me.” His steps were suddenly gone entirely. For a long while, you debated just sitting there, after all, you didn’t know the layout of this house and would more than likely end up in some kind of prank or trap if you actually followed him. After a few more minutes, though, her curiosity got the better of you. You turned on your cellphone’s flashlight, using the wall as a guide around the house.

                Halfway up the stairs, your nerve gave out and you stopped walking entirely. What the _hell_ were you doing? He could throw you down the stairs, kill you if he really wanted to. You gripped the rail, unable to bring yourself to go up any higher. You trusted Papyrus; but Sans wasn’t someone you would drop your guard for. You couldn’t drop it for him. You sighed, unlocking your phone and going into the tracking app. At least you’d know his exact location before he jumped out or… threw you. Whatever it was he was planning. Once you pinned him, the sensor on the screen blinked, tracking his location before you heard the loud, telltale beeps from a few feet away.

“ _the hell?”_ The sound of something hitting a door, before scrambling around forced you to stifle a chuckle. You followed the noise to a thin door, opening it up to find the skeleton on the ground, draped in a sheet with round glasses over what you assumed to be his eyes.

“…What are you doing?” It’d be a lie if you said you weren’t relieved. Whatever he was doing here was apparently far less sinister than planning to toss you down the steps.

You saw him freeze from underneath the blanket, before shrugging lackadaisically, “…guess you found the skeleton in my closet.”

“ _You’re_ the skeleton in your closet?” You weren’t entirely sure what to make of this. “…what’s with the glasses?”

“what? don’t recognize my costume? i’m john _linen._ ” You stared down at the pile of sheets before gathering them all up and wordlessly heading back down the stairs. It was the only way you could think to react. If you laughed, it’d only encourage him. Not to mention, he was still under house arrest. You were only going to build a fort because he looked so scared. And maybe because you hadn’t done it in years. “not a beatles fan, then?”

You clicked your tongue, starting to stack the pillows and cushions up for the structure of what was soon to be a linen castle. “Just not a fan of _you_.” You glanced his way, “I already told you I can’t laugh at your jokes.” You did your best to ignore the tingling sensation flickering to life within your chest. Was it panic? Annoyance? Anger? You returned your focus back to the fort, deciding it was better for the both of you if you kept eye contact to a minimum.

“fair ‘nough.” Sans slurred after a minute, “not gonna stop me from making ‘em, though.” As he watched you work, he couldn’t help but relax. Your actions were calculated, meticulous. Smooth. It reminded him of the detail Papyrus put into his puzzles, and just watching you soothed his nerves. He hadn’t even noticed the thunder so much when you were talking. When he’d first saw the storm rolling in, he just figured he’d get plastered like he did the first time it ever stormed, couldn’t panic if he was passed out, right?  “you’re sure putting a lot of thought into that.”

You were in the middle of pulling a blanket taut and holding it steady with the leg of the couch. “I put a lot of thought into everything I do.” The response was mostly off-handed, meant to get him to stop talking and let you work, if all he was going to do was sit there.

“…so what was the thought process that made you try and get rid of papyrus?” His voice was so low, you almost missed it under all of the thunder and rain. You felt your back itch at his voice, not unbearably, but a minor sensation that made you sit up straighter. Even though he didn’t raise or sharpen his tone, you felt her guard rise. Setting the pillow on your lap, you clutched it, as if it would make his question disappear.

You used the moment to collect your thoughts, biting the inside of your cheek as she mulled over your words. “I’m not just a police officer. I’m the Chief _._ It’s not just my job to protect the civilians in Ebott, but every officer under me as well.” You ran a hand through your hair, keeping your eyes on the pillow to keep your wits about you. “…Two years ago, no one knew monsters even existed. You were all just… legends. Tales we used to keep kids in line. And then you all come out of the mountain…” You squeezed the pillow, hoping it’d make the tremor in your hands less visible, “With all this… _magic._ ” You forced yourself to exhale, “Can you _imagine_ what it feels like, seeing the place you live get torn apart? And being powerless to stop it? People dying when you’re supposed to be protecting them?”

                Sans’s eyelights faded out, as memories he’d shoved away returned with a vengeance; the kid. Steps through snow, dust in their hair. Cold. He knew what it felt like. Watching the residents of Snowdin fade away one by one. _Knowing_ it was going to happen and doing nothing to stop it. He could’ve. He could’ve skewered the kid on sight, protected the Underground from them but he’d promised… Stars, did he remember that terror, that panic. Every time, waking up, wondering if that day would be the day the kid came from the door covered in dust, if this time would be the time he’d die, too. It was almost like that burning in his sternum had never gone away. It was uncomfortable, and pressing his hand against it did nothing to stop it. “…yeah.” His voice sounded so skewed and distant- had he even said it aloud?

                “It wasn’t Papyrus. It’s just…” Your voice tailed off as your thoughts scattered elsewhere. It wasn’t _just_ one thing. Yes, you wanted to protect Ebott, the civilians, the cadets, your officers. You wanted everything to stay intact, but you also wanted to make up for your failure to protect Casey. You remembered how terrified you were, seeing Papyrus there that first day, your absolute _need_ to get him out as quickly as possible. How could anyone trust so blindly after what you’d seen? “It was…” You opened your eyes, and blinked at the cyan tinge lighting their fort. Again…?

                You looked directly at Sans, noting the light was indeed emanating from underneath his shirt, but he looked so distracted that he hadn’t seemed to notice yet. The light was much dimmer than before, but seemed intense due to the absolute darkness you were sitting in. “…You’re glowing?”

                Startled out of his memories, Sans looked at you, shocked at the blue glow lighting your features. _What?_ As soon as he noticed, the light began to subside, leaving both of you literally in the dark. “…that’s, uh…” He zipped up his jacket, as if to shield himself from whatever just happened. He had put it out of his mind last time, just had taken it as a result of his anger. But even this time, his soul was still humming, not as intensely as last time, but… that was unmistakably the same heat searing through his soul. He had absolutely no idea what was going on, and that thought unnerved him. “…that’s normal.” It wasn’t.

                You didn’t have any reason to counter what he claimed (other than the fact that he seemed highly uncomfortable and you’d never seen anyone else do it before), so you decided to just drop it. That moment was a little too… personal for your liking, anyway. You’d never said those thoughts to anyone before; it wouldn’t be proper to show any weakness or fear about the situation of the entire city. You huffed, laying down under the blanket fort, attributing your loose tongue to the rain. You’d always been surrounded by people you trusted when it rained like this. It was just your natural reaction to relax, not to think so much about your position, about what was at stake. You felt Sans crawl into the fort and lay down beside you, keeping his hands folded on his stomach (how did he have a…?)  Other than the occasional bump of your elbows, you stayed respectfully distant of each other. The silence was somewhere between uncomfortable and tense, and you felt the need to fill it. “…For what it’s worth, I do regret offering him that choice.”

                Sans’s chuckle was completely humorless, instead it was… _bitter._ “you wouldn’ta had to if i hadn’t…” He trailed off, and his fidgeting with his coat was audible. Papyrus had been kind enough not to mention it anymore after the festival, but he had never stopped thinking about. All of this had been his fault and he knew it. When he first met you, he was so angry and terrified, he just lashed out and didn’t think about what exactly he’d done, how you were actually _real_ , and would remember what he did. Why would he have had to? It was still sinking in that there’d be no more resets, that this time, his actions would actually matter in the long run. He didn’t know what he was doing, he just… needed to protect the only thing that mattered to him; the next time, he’d be able to figure out a way around you _properly_ , but… there wouldn’t be a next time. Not this time, right? That was the first and last time he met you, and _that_ was his first impression on you. Stars. “...i’m uh… sorry about that, by the way…”

                Now it was your turn to be silent. Did he… just…? You looked over at him, noting his eyelights were focused on the blankets above them. What were you supposed to say to that? It wasn’t _okay_ (you couldn’t give the impression that assault was forgivable), but… you certainly never planned to be in this situation. Your silence seemed to prompt him to keep talking, “i’m not expecting you to forgive me ‘r anything. and i’m not sorry about defending papyrus. but… i understand where you’re coming from. i think we’re sorta the same.” He suddenly felt vulnerable; he was thankful that it was so dark. The urge to shortcut up to his room was making itself known, but he knew it wouldn’t do much- you could track him, and it wouldn’t take back what he’d said already. “i was suspicious of you. i thought you were going to hurt him. kill him.” The more he talked, the more uncomfortable he felt, yet he was still rambling on. “it’s just… pap’s all i’ve really got left. couldn’t bear losin’ him again, you know?”

                You felt your chest clench. Why was he saying this? It was hard to continue disliking him if he was making you think of Casey. “I understand. More than you-” You shook your head, the odd word out ringing in your ears, “ _‘Again’_?”

                Suddenly, you both were in total darkness. Sans’s eyelights vanished completely. He rarely let things like that slip. This had to be the worst possible time for something like that… “heh, did i say ‘again’? weird.”

                Your eyebrows furrowed, whatever he’d just said wasn’t a mistake. It didn’t make any sense to you, but it was _definitely_ what he was thinking, even if he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. ‘Lose him again…’ He could’ve meant in terms of him going to training, but no. He’d specifically said “ _kill him_ ” in the sentence prior. Maybe he had another brother? You’d have to write and ask Papyrus… Not that you cared. It wasn’t really your business, anyway. Watching him was all you were supposed to be doing. Relating to him, understanding him… you were a law enforcer, not a social worker. Crossing your arms behind your head, you stretched to get more comfortable on the floor. You listened to the raindrops drumming on the walls. You weren’t sure if you weere disappointed that the rain was slowing down, or thankful for it. “Thunder’s stopped.”

                “mm…” His melancholic hum was an acknowledgment, and barely even that. His eyelights had never reappeared to light the fort so you assumed his eyes were closed. You decided to follow suit, though it didn’t make much of a difference. You exhaled, letting your breathing slow and even out. Your thoughts became fuzzy, warm memories of the past, your priorities and concerns fading into echoes that you could fish from the back of your mind tomorrow. This was why you enjoyed storms. The turbulence in your head could be overshadowed for a little while, swept away so you could remember the things you always seemed to forget during the sunny days…

 

                When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was that it was still dark. And hot. Smotheringly so. It took you a minute to push all of the blankets of what used to be an impressive fort aside, and after sitting up, you found Sans tucked right at your side. His ribs rose and fell, breaths taken without lungs. Eyelids shut tight, and that same practiced grin plastered on his face. You stared at him for a moment. Somehow, he was still asleep despite the commotion. You couldn’t sleep through birds chirping, let alone someone waking up beside you… You envied him for that, in a way.

Your sleepy haze began to ebb away and with it you realized that he hadn’t moved. Sans was still exactly where he’d set himself last night, hands folded over his stomach and everything. So… why were your legs brushing his, your hip at his side…? You felt your face warm up, as you slowly peeled yourself out of the mess of sheets, blankets, and pillows. As much as you wanted to pretend, you knew the answer to that. It was why you’d always made it a point not to fall asleep publicly, you’d been this way your whole life. If it was within arm range, and had some sort of heat, it was subject to your cuddling up to it. You were just thankful he was asleep. You’d never live that down if Ron heard about it from him (then again… who’d even believe him? _You, cuddling?_ Yeah, right.)

                After freeing yourself of that and burying that memory away, never to be spoken of again, you checked your phone. Two missed calls from Ron, but otherwise things seemed calm. You would’ve fretted about the time if you were younger, but as it stood, you had more pressing concerns. Like going home and changing. If it was urgent, your work cell would’ve rang. For right now, you could take things at your own pace. You flipped on a light, frowning at the mess of blankets. It’d be unsightly to leave them like that. Without thinking about it, you folded up all the blankets, set Sans on the couch (he still didn’t wake up?) and put everything back in the linen closet where it was found. You forgot that you enjoyed cleaning. Your house was always spotless now that… You cut the thought. No need to do that to yourself right now. On the way to the door, the kitchen caught your attention. Not that it was your responsibility, but as a home owner, the sorry state of it just beckoned you to it. You didn’t recall it being in such a disarray when Papyrus invited you over for the cookout. You wandered into the kitchen, at first with the sole intent of dumping all the used paper plates into the trash, and before you realized what you’d done, you were drying the dishes and stacking them at the side of the sink. No wonder Papyrus was so neat.

                “you’re still here? won’t you be… _plate_ to work?”

You nearly dropped the glass in your hand, fumbling before setting it down and stepping away from the sink like it had suddenly grown teeth. “I was just-” You ran your hand through your hair, looking around for a better explanation that ‘your mess was bothering me.’ “-getting water and your glasses were dirty so I just thought I’d-!” You forced your mouth shut, straightened your posture, and hoped that’d be enough to deter him from asking anything more. Before he could think of a response, your stoic gaze was back, any trace of uncertainty gone within the instant. “-Clean your house.” You sidestepped him, heading toward the door without looking back. “Bye.” As soon as the door was shut behind you, you internally cringed at the interaction. He hadn’t even asked what you were doing.

But… as far as impromptu nights with criminals go… that was one of the better ones.

 

After going home, getting ready, and returning to the station, the day had smoothed out for the most part. When Ron had heard you were back, he hurried in, looking haggard, but quickly relaxed when he determined you to be unharmed. “Didn’t answer my call yesterday. Did you actually go and check in on Sans, (Y/N)?” He crossed his arms in mock-disappointment, “Or did you just use the rain as an excuse to skip out?”

Looking up from your paperwork, you met his gaze with a look that could only be kindly described as sardonic, at best, “If you’re so worried about me not doing my job, why don’t _you_ just go?”

“You know the answer to that.” He nearly snorted as he leaned against the edge of the desk. As much as he teased, he knew for sure that you’d gone- the guilt would’ve eaten away at you if you didn’t.  “Besides, this is your deal, not mine. I’m just helping you out because I care so much.”

“And I can’t thank you enough, Ron.” Your deadpan delivery made him pause, questioning for a moment if you were being sarcastic or not. When you saw the uncertainty passing through his eyes, you chuckled, “I meant that.”

Ron hesitated, struck by your laugh. It’d been months since he’d seen you light up like that, even for a few moments. “You’re in a good mood today.” He scanned you, looking for any outward reason, and when you realized he was observing you, you shifted, crossing your arms in front of you.

“I didn’t know smiling was enough of a probable cause to be subject to search.” You redirected your attention to the window, reveling in Ron’s awkward shuffling, “But if you prefer me to be stoic then I guess…”

“No, no.” He cleared his throat, “It’s not bad, I was just wondering if something happened.”

You tilted your head slightly, intent on denying his accusation, but… maybe it _was_ yesterday. Not that Sans had done anything particularly kind, but it _felt_ noteworthy. He’d apologized to you, explained himself. You even opened up yourself, did things you wouldn’t normally around your officers, said things you wouldn’t say around your friends. Maybe it _was_ the rainy day that had improved your mood. But you couldn’t say that to Ron. “Nothing you’d find interesting.”

Ron smiled, though his eyes betrayed his disappointment. Maybe he should take it as the good sign it was instead of pushing it. It was just nice to see that glimmer of an old friend he thought he lost, “Well…”

He hadn’t had the time to continue his statement, as the abrupt ring of his phone drew both of your attention. Business, as usual. He answered it, and faltered when Sans’s voice rang hesitantly over the line, “uh hey, ron. so, remember when you said i was uh… prohibited from talking to anyone else?” A small hum of acknowledgement kept Sans talking, “so what if someone just a _door_ ed me so much that they… broke in?”

Ron hesitated before unabashedly laughing aloud. He wasn’t sure if it was the pun that got him, or just imagining how awkward he must have looked deciding to make the call, “I think I could forgive you for that. But we will need to come over to ensure that you’re following regulations.”

“oh. ‘lright.” The tension in Sans’s voice slipped away when he heard Ron’s laugh, “wait. _we?_ …the chief’s coming, too?” Ron looked over, noting you had gone back to your paperwork, seemingly paying no mind to the conversation at hand. He knew you listened to everything, but you seemed to be making a point in avoiding his eyes right now.

“I know you two don’t get along, but she has to. She’ll decided whether your interactions are within regulation or not.” It wasn’t to say he couldn’t do it himself, but you likely had an idea of who you wanted interacting with Sans and who you didn’t. Not to mention it’d be easier to decide what to do about it if they were all together, rather than trying to negotiate over the phone.

“she was in such a hurry to leave, didn’t think she’d be coming back so soon ‘s all.” Ron nodded subconsciously at the statement. Seemed about right for you, really.

“We’ll be there soon, okay?” After a mumble of agreement, Ron hung up his phone and looked at you expectantly. “I know you heard me. Come on.”

You sighed, sliding your chair back and standing reluctantly. “I don’t see why you can’t go on your own.” As soon as you fell in step with him, you remembered how awkward you’d been when you left earlier. Sans probably wouldn’t mention it, or even remember but losing your composure like that… _you_ remembered. And it caused an uncomfortable sensation to well up in your chest. What reason did you even have to feel so… uneasy? You were a grown adult, so what if you cleaned? That was normal. It was normal to build forts for people you dislike. It was normal to admit your fears to criminals. It was normal… shit. It wasn’t. It really wasn’t. You ran her nails over the back of your hand, hoping the tingles would soothe your nerves.

“I guess we should have checked with Sans if there was anyone who would’ve been worried about his absence.” Ron mused, shutting the door, giving you a quick glance over before starting the car, “Speaking of absence. I don’t think we even asked if he had a job or anything.”

You shrugged slightly, “He’s not on vacation. There are consequences.” You looked out the window, running a hand through your hair, “Though, I’m sure Papyrus would’ve mentioned a job. Or Sans himself would’ve. It’s not something people overlook.” Ebott’s dull streets passed them by, and you couldn’t help but note everyone you saw on the way. Humans. Monsters. Nothing out of the ordinary. “And even if he _did_ have a job he’s missing out on, it’s likely better this way. There won’t be any charges on his record.”

“I guess that’s true.” You studied Ron’s expression momentarily- he’d agreed with you, but you knew that look. That was the look he had the first time you spoke after you’d been promoted to Chief. Respect, but something underlying nagging away at him. Sometimes you hated knowing his expressions so well, it made it harder to ignore them.

“You want to argue me.” The statement was quick, cutting the silence- rigid enough to separate you by rank, but the fact that you’d said anything gave him the freedom to speak as he pleased.

“You don’t think you’re being… too harsh with him?” Ron pulled the car into the lot, setting it in park before glancing over at you, “Don’t shut me down this time, (Y/N). You _know_ you’d hurt someone if you thought they hurt Casey. I’m just saying, isn’t it hypocritical of you to do this to him?”

“ _No._ ” You wished you would’ve kept the silence. “It’s _not_. Last I remember, the monster that _killed_ Casey is still in one piece.” You did your best to keep yourself from glaring at him, “…Maybe I would’ve beat him to death if I wasn’t who I was.” You looked out the window, at the skeleton brothers’ apartment door, “But, then again… Casey was already gone by the time I arrived. If I was earlier- if I could’ve protected him? I guess I don’t know what I would’ve done. I probably would’ve slammed him against the wall, too.” Nails ghosting over her skin, reminders of pain prickling up your spine, “He told me that he couldn’t lose him again. I wasn’t sure what to think about it then. I’m still not. I didn’t want to realize how much I relate to that feeling. I don’t want to see myself in him.”

Ron nodded along until you’d finished speaking, “You lost me- who couldn’t lose who again? Are you talking about Sans? You _spoke_ to Sans?”

You went rigid. Too much. _Too much._ “We’re wasting time. Let’s go-” You pulled the door handle, only for it to lock. You stared at the door, almost insulted that he _dared_ to try and lock you inside. You pressed the unlock button on your side, only for him to repeat the action in kind. Unlock. Lock. Unlock. Lock.

“I told you not to shut me out this time. We’re talking about this, (Y/N). Answer my questions.”

“Let me out. _Right now_.”

“No.” Ron sighed, keeping his hand over the lock button. “I’m not letting you take your grudge of Monster-kind out on Sans. I need to understand, so you have to talk to me.” He got a chill as he practically watched your demeanor ice over. It was unsettling, how many settings you were capable of switching between in a given moment. Whatever pleasant mood you’d had prior was completely gone, now replaced with a professional apathy- a distance he’d always tried not to mind, but he always felt intensely when you looked at him like that. Devoid. Cold.

“Open the door. This is your last warning.” You removed your hand from the door, instead clenching it in your lap. You didn’t know why Ron kept bringing this up- to reopen old wounds, or just to bother you, but whatever his plans were, you had a feeling that he was _not_ going to like the result. You kept him at a distance for a reason. Everyone was at a distance for a reason. You couldn’t lean on him in the way normal friends could; there was a possibility that you could see him die. That it would be your fault if you made a bad call. You had to care, but realize that your officers- however much they meant to you- were constantly in danger. Put callously, they were expendable. Every single one of them. And each of them knew it.  You couldn’t bear your weight on them. How catastrophic would it be if they disappeared and you collapsed? The ECP wouldn’t just suffer. All of Ebott would.

“You’re not fooling me with that tone, (Y/N). I’m not opening it.”

You exhaled, “Fine. Listen, then.” He forced himself still as your eyes turned on him, like a lion on an unsuspecting gazelle. “Imagine this. Miranda has her baby. You’re a father. That child means the world to you- it does already, doesn’t it? Your child is going to grow up, and there _will_ be people who mistreat them. Hurt them. What would you do as a father, to those people? Allow it because—what? Because those people suffer misfortunes in their life, too? Are you going to let your kid down because you want to follow some warped sense of equality toward everyone?” You waited as Ron shifted in silence.

“It’s not the _same_ , (Y/N). Casey wasn’t your child. He was your _brother.”_

“ _For fuck’s sake_ , I’m not talking about Casey, I’m talking about Ebott! Casey is dead, and it’s my fault! I can’t do anything for Casey anymore, but I can protect Ebott. **_It’s_ _all I have left_** _.”_ Ron watch you cautiously, now overly aware of the how tightly he’d been gripping the steering wheel, “Until you are left with nothing but _scars_ and _memories_ \- _Do **not** pretend to understand._” You waited in the silence, for him to speak, nod, or for anything more to come to you. But nothing did. Just silence.

You wordlessly unlocked the car, slamming the door shut and heading toward the door without a glance back. From inside the car, Ron watched you go, unsure of what emotions he could decipher bubbling within him. At least, he’d seen an inkling of emotion- of that firestorm you used to be. But your words bit him. Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed it after all. Maybe you were wrong for blowing up when he just wanted to understand. Maybe you were right that he’d never be able to. He just sighed, deciding it’d likely be better for both of you if he just stayed in the car.

 

When you knocked on the door, it was barely a minute before Sans answered the door with Frisk attached to his legs. In spite of how upset you were, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself at that. It was… pretty damn adorable, honestly. “oh, hey, chief. i guess frisk wanted to see me so bad that they _legged_ it over here ‘s fast as possible.”

You watched the brown-haired child stand up and begin signing at you, ‘Hello, Miss Chief! You should come in.’ You smiled defeatedly and let the child lead you in by the hand. You couldn’t stay long, on top of this not being scheduled (though, really, when did you schedule anything in your life?), you knew you couldn’t leave Ron sitting in the car like that. You both had to go back to the station.

“Hello, Ambassador.” You turned your attention to the skeleton briefly, “Sans.” Your chest didn’t ache the same way it did when you typically looked at him like that. No hostility. You attributed it to Frisk’s presence. Sans didn’t seem as tense as usual, his lazy grin looking more habitual now than forced. “I’m afraid I can’t stay long today.”

‘That’s okay. I know you wouldn’t be here at all if it weren’t for me.’ Frisk’s hands slowed down as they thought about what to say next. ‘Sans has an ankle monitor, Miss Chief. He tried to tell me it was his new fashion statement, but… I know better than that. He’s in trouble.’

The concerned look that plagued Frisk’s face made you cringe. You had so many questions-  from simply, how did Frisk know he was in trouble, to how did Frisk recognize an ankle monitor? Sure, it was bulky and hard to miss, but most children didn’t automatically jump to crime. If Frisk knew that, then… they’ve had some sort of familial experience with criminality. It wasn’t unusual for children from broken households to recognize such things. “Oh, it’s not…”

‘You don’t need to hide it from me. I know it’s house arrest. No one’s seen Sans in weeks. Everyone was asking questions and getting worried.’ Frisk glanced over their shoulder at Sans who had settled himself on the couch, away from their conversation. ‘He wouldn’t tell me anything, just that he’s not allowed to go anywhere or talk to anyone.’

Talking to kids was simultaneously the easiest and hardest things you ever had to do for work. They were trusting and open and that just made it so much more difficult. Frisk was the Ambassador of an entire race, but they were still like _ten._ They shouldn’t be subject to this. “Those things are typical of house arrest.”

‘I know. And you may not believe me, but Sans is an important monster. A lot of people are noticing his absence. I don’t know what he did, but things are going to get kind of bad if you let people believe he’s gone.’ You got a strange feeling from that statement. In fact, all of Frisk’s statements were peculiar. They didn’t seem to be coached- you doubted Sans would even go through the energy of trying to make them remember all of this, let alone act this convincingly. ‘I’m asking you to trust me on this, as the Ambassador. I’m not saying this because Sans is my friend.’

“I’ll… consider what you’ve said. Thank you, Frisk.” You genuinely weren’t sure if that was some type of thinly veiled warning, or if Frisk had precognizance of some sort, but you decided to put that information away for later. You’d decide what to do with it at some point. You sat up straight, tucking your hair behind her ear, “I came to make sure Sans was behaving, and he seems to be. Keep him in check, won’t you, Frisk? I’m sure it won’t hurt for you to visit him when you’d like.”

‘Thank you, Miss Chief. And it was really good seeing you again!’ Frisk trotted off to the kitchen and you turned around, finding Sans standing behind you calmly, a soda in hand.

“Looks like you’ve got a new visitor. I’m sure you’re thrilled.” You put your hand on your hip, watching him absently. He still made you uncomfortable, but in a ‘ _stranger’_ sort of way, instead of a threat sort of way. He’d apologized, so you didn’t think you were at risk of being tossed against a wall anytime soon, but you still watched him with caution.

“you bet. i can hardly _can_ tain my enthusiasm.” As if to emphasis his point, he popped the soda with a hiss. You denied the urge to roll your eyes. “what? you prefer a glass?” You paused, unsure if that was supposed to be a reference to this morning or not. You hoped not. Please, let it not be. “i find the can more com _fort_ ing myself.”

Oh god, it was.

You pushed your hair away from your face, looking for something to say, anything that would sound dignified and confident. But not a single quip came to mind. You stood there for a full minute, swearing internally about everything in this situation. “Your puns are awful. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that, you strode out the door.

Sans chuckled to himself. He didn’t think he’d get _that_ much joy out of watching you squirm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you like emotional whiplash??! I'm not good at keeping tonal consistency, did you know?!


	11. Hot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, a police chief and a skeleton walk into a bar...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The subtitle of this chapter is 'Tooth and Nail', but I wanted to continue to follow my naming conventions. This chapter is mostly fluff. Well, it's pretty much all fluff, kinda sorta. Enjoy your time with the skele.

The ride back to the station was completely silent; unbearably uncomfortable. You felt Ron’s gaze on you, felt whatever pressing issue was on his tongue, and had decided to ignore it by averting your eyes. You’d given him your perspective- the exact thing he’d asked for- and you didn’t want to hear anything more on it, for now. Maybe when the sting of his accusations faded away, and you could come to terms with everything in your life, you’d let him give you his thoughts on the matter, but as it stood, you didn’t want to hear it. Regardless of what he said, it’d probably only make you more upset. You were doing him a favor by shutting him out right now.

                When the car pulled into the station’s parking lot and the engine cut, Ron swore he felt the temperature drop by the second. “Deputy.” Your voice was frigid, chilling him through his spine, but he forced his eyes to meet yours despite how every instinct he had screamed to keep his gaze far away from yours.

                “Yeah, (Y/N)?” He tried to keep his tone cordial, warm, in some hapless attempt to counteract your anger. The way your eyes narrowed at him almost made him flinch, but he kept his composure. Your eyes corrected him before your mouth ever did, “Chief.”

                “ _My office_.” The phrase was so abrupt he only registered what you said once the car door shut and he was completely alone. He genuinely wasn’t sure what to expect once he went; your temper had long since cooled since you became Chief- outbursts _had_ to be kept at a minimum- but… today was full of surprises. He had probably pushed some boundaries, speaking to you the way he did. He probably shouldn’t expect anything more than a basic (albeit harshly worded) reprimand, but regardless of that thought, he still couldn’t shake off the dread about the upcoming meeting.

                …Well, waiting in the car wasn’t going to solve anything. With equal amounts of effort and reluctance, he dragged himself into the station.

 

                In your office, you had gotten to work as usual. Your emotions weren’t any excuse to neglect your job, and never had been. The paperwork all seemed to bleed together at some point, each thing becoming indistinguishable from the last. It was more or less something to keep your hands busy- there was never a shortage of menial paperwork for you to overlook or sign, after all. Your train of thought had been weaving past all the paperwork and derailing to what Frisk had said to you earlier. _‘Sans is an important monster.’_ …What was that supposed to mean? You met _Asgore-_ the literal king of the entire race, and Frisk had made a very direct point to claim Sans was important. You clicked your pen against your chin, hoping the repetitive feeling would inspire _some sort_ of answer within you. Assuming Frisk wouldn’t just say that about every monster, then… what made him special? What was his deal? Maybe this had to do with that job you never asked about and he never mentioned. You didn’t want to have to ask him- it wasn’t _really_ your business, and it wasn’t like you were on casual speaking terms, but… Frisk warned you. Bad things might happen within (or to) the monster community. Usually, advice from someone nearly a decade or two younger than you would be taken with a grain of salt, but in this case… you trusted Frisk’s word. It might just be best to go to Sans directly.

                “Chief?” The door swung open, and you set the pen down, observing Ron as he walked in. As steadfast as any officer needed to be; you wouldn’t expect any less. His demeanor didn’t undermine your decision, however; the thought crossed you once earlier and after ruminating on it, you figured it was likely for the best.

                “Deputy.” You flicked your wrist absently, and Ron shut the door behind him. Once his attention was fully yours, you tilted your head slightly. “We’ll keep this brief. I won’t be needing your assistance with Sans any longer.”

                Ron nearly choked on air. He’d been expecting—well, he wasn’t sure _what_ he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. Maybe a scolding, or those long lines of sarcastic, rhetorical questions you tended to favor when you were upset, but… not this. “Wh-what?” He finally managed after the initial surprise faded, “Why?”

                “We’re crossing too many lines.” You stared him down, a dare to challenge you sparking in your eyes. “Despite our friendship, I’m still your superior. Understand?”

                His immediate reaction was to argue- how could you do something like this? He was only trying to _help_ , to _understand_! And you were shutting him out _again_! “(Y/-”

                “ _Chief._ ”

                …Then it clicked. It wasn’t like you to flaunt your position just because you could. You were separating him. He never thought about it; he watched over other officers as Deputy, but he didn’t bear the same weight you did. ‘ _Don’t pretend to understand._ ’ He suddenly felt his stomach twist, he really did push you. He had only wanted to make things easier on Sans, on all monsterkind, to keep you from falling into the pit of prejudice he was scared you were approaching. He really _had_ upset you- to the point you felt it was necessary to completely sever their friendship and work relationship from each other. “…I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, (Y/N), I only wanted to help you.”

                Your eyes widened a fraction, but you immediately averted your gaze to the window. You exhaled, propping your chin up on your fist. If it’d been _that_ simple to ease the pain you’d felt over the past few months you would’ve done it on your own. He only managed to dredge up painful reminders of the things you’d lost, mistakes you’d made. He worked fine as your balance at work, and he was supportive as a friend, but they had to be separate. Keeping the two together was going to cause a meltdown. “Forget it for now.” You picked up your pen, signaling the end of the conversation, “As I said, your assistance will no longer be necessary. Return to work.”

                He’d seen that ice wall go up a million times, but never toward him. It was a matter of efficiency, making things run as smoothly as possible, but he’d never felt like he’d been shunned by his boss before. “I-” Hesitating. He was… _hesitating_ , to talk to you- his friend of -who knows how many- years now. It felt childish, like he’d broken some toy on the playground, or spread some idle gossip in high school. But _this_ , god, this was much worse. It wasn’t something petty you were holding a grudge over; he’d called you on everything you’d experienced without taking your feelings on it all into consideration. “I don’t…”

                You didn’t even look up at him, “We have nothing left to talk about.” Like venom churning his blood into sludge. Your words left no room for argument, so he forced himself out of the room and out to his own office.

 

                The first few days after you removed Ron from Sans’s house arrest were calm. Normal, even. Well, as normal as they could be. The relationship was still awkward- tentative- but the attempt to bridge the gap was being made on both sides. Sans’s pranks became less intrusive, he made more good-natured puns, and you made the attempt to loosen up, and even unlock his phone. You still hadn’t decided what to do about the information Frisk had given you, however. Working up the nerve to ask him how he was important was proving to be harder than you thought it was going to be.

The third day, though, Sans stopped you before you could leave.

                “i’ve been meaning to ask you...” The skeleton leaned against the front door, hands tucked into his pockets like usual. “is ron _gone_ or something?”

                You tilted your head slightly, sighing with mock disappointment, “And here I thought we were finally getting along.” Sans only raised a brow bone, but didn’t react otherwise. At his silence, you shifted, placing your hand on your hip. “I told him to stop coming.”

                “why?” Surprisingly enough, he didn’t sound… annoyed or upset, just curious. You weren’t sure if that was a good sign or not. At his question, though, you faltered, rolling up your sleeves absently. You knew how bad it would sound if you put it bluntly, and it’d sound like an abuse of your power without context (though, really, this wasn’t _technically_ a work matter, so…?) but you still weren’t entirely comfortable about sharing with Sans. Or… anyone, really.

                “…It’s a long story.” Was the only avoidant answer you could muster. It would’ve been easy to sidestep him, or just claim it was a necessary decision, but you couldn’t bring yourself to outright lie.

                “i’ve got time,” Sans’s smile widened just a bit, “a skele- _ton_ of it.” You rolled your eyes, but found yourself biting back a smile regardless. Honestly, you were just surprised you hadn’t heard one like that yet.

                “I doubt it’ll be of any interest to you.” All things considered, it was jarring that he was even curious. Maybe it shouldn’t have come as a shock; you both mentioned your insecurities on that rainy day. So why were you hiding herself now?

                “been stuck in this house for like a month. _anything_ is interesting at this point.” You scanned him, recognizing he had no intention of moving from in front of the door until you spoke. Strange. That thought didn’t make you as nervous as you thought it would. That wasn’t to say you were underestimating him- you knew he could use his magic at any time he wanted. Maybe because you’d seen less and less of it, you weren’t as on edge. Maybe because you understood that he’d only done what he had for fear of losing Papyrus. Whatever the reason, you enjoyed the moments where you could lower your guard, even slightly.

                “…You have, haven’t you?” You mumbled thoughtfully. Maybe he’d just given you a perfect opening. “Choose a place you want to go, and we’ll talk there.”

                Sans stiffened. What was your plan? If you wanted to arrest him (which, he hadn’t done anything to warrant _this_ time), wouldn’t you have just taken him by force? Usually it was Ron’s job to go out shopping with him, maybe you were just doing your job…? But you didn’t say _store_. It wasn’t specified; he could choose anywhere. “hate to let you down, chief, but i don’t date humans—”

                You jerked back, “What? _No_.” You scratched your neck, shifting your gaze to the floor. “You’re really looking a gift horse in the mouth right now.” Who would even say something like that in this situation? You knew he was just trying to bother you, and the worst part was that it was _working_. Damn skeleton. “Just choose a place before I change my mind.”

                “mm, let’s go to grillby’s, then.” He shrugged his jacket up on his shoulders, when he opened the door, he glanced over you noting you seemed lost in your thoughts. “you’re not gonna _cop out_ , are ya?”

                His quip made you groan, “I’m sure I’ve told you that your puns are garbage by now.” You headed out the door, pausing once you were out so he could lock the door, and fall in step with you. It was strange, walking beside someone who you were watching. Your instinct told you that you needed to be behind him, but… there wasn’t any justification you could use to get away with that. He was far from being actively hostile (maybe other than his puns’ attack on your sense of humor), and you really didn’t want to goad him if you didn’t have to.

                “are you _trash_ talking my jokes?” You rolled your eyes, unlocking the car doors as they approached, “rude. but i think you must love ‘em if you keep letting me get away with ‘em with im _pun_ ity.”

                “That one doesn’t even work, it’s not pro—” You pinched the bridge of your nose, deciding it’d only encourage him if you argued, “Get in the car before I actually decide to arrest you.”

                “what, you gonna take me to the state _pun_ itentiary _?_ ”

                “ _Shush._ ”

 

                You’d never been in a bar with such a warm atmosphere before. It immediately drew you in, even with all the monsters loitering about (many of which were dog monsters—and they were cute). You disregarded the odd looks you got- it always happened when you entered _any_ place in uniform- and the attention was immediately drawn off you once Sans stepped into view. He gave the patrons a lazy two-fingered salute as he sauntered in. “heya, everyone. didja all miss me?”

                The chorus of warm greetings made you tilt your head. Of course, you’d only seen a very specific side of Sans- it made sense _you’d_ be wary of him, but… it was odd seeing everyone so happy to see him. Did they all know what he was capable of? Was this some monster thing that you just weren’t in on? Or was he just genuinely a good person in the monster community and you just wouldn’t know because… well, you weren’t _in_ the monster community? If Papyrus was any indication, then that would be the case, but you refused to use Papyrus’s good deeds as a measure for Sans. Papyrus was just a saint compared to anyone. You followed the skeleton to the bar, sliding into the seat next to him. You busied yourself studying the countertop when you gradually felt a warm glow spread over your skin. It took everything you had not to jump when you looked up and saw a man made of flames crackling in front of you. Monsters could be _elementals_? Monsters could be elementals. Who knew? The soft voice caught you entirely off-guard, “……There you are. I thought you were trying to skip out on paying your tab.”

                Sans smiled as he leaned his elbows against the counter, “gee grillby. sure know how to give a guy a _warm_ welcome, don’t you?” The bartender only crackled in response, and you couldn’t tell if he was making a face or not. It felt rude having to squint your eyes to even look at him, but it was the only way you could distinguish anything about him. You had so many questions about his existence.

                “……Haha. I thought you’d learn some new material in your time away. I suppose I was wrong.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at his deadpan delivery. At this, Grillby turned his attention to you curiously, flames flickering slightly as he looked you over.

                At his silent question, Sans looked over you, “oh her? the chief of police.” Sans winked, “betcha didn’t know i had friends in such high places.”

                “Considering you know King Asgore, I don’t think that was ever really in question.” You responded reflexively. Glancing back at the bartender, you pushed your hair away from your face, remembering that Sans hadn’t introduced you properly. “Oh. My name is (Y/N).”

                “……Grillby.” He said, setting his glass down to offer his hand. You stared at it momentarily, fighting a war on whether to preserve your hand’s safety or not to insult the only monster who shared your sense of humor you’d met so far. After some internal debate, you hesitantly went with the latter. His hand betrayed every expectation you had. It was solid enough to grip, like a human’s at its base, and wasn’t completely scalding. It was warm, sure, enough to make your palms sweat immediately upon contact, but not painful. His flames lapped at your skin, dancing up your wrist before whipping back to his person. You had to wonder if there was a similar form underneath the rest of his flames, too. Only a few of your questions about his existence had been answered. “……So, what would you like?”

                “just the usual,” He glanced at you, taking you skeptical frown into consideration, “don’t worry, _fry_ think you’ll like it.”

                “That wasn’t even subtle.” You mumbled, folding your arms on the countertop. Despite your outward displeasure, the atmosphere of the bar was relaxing. It reminded you of more peaceful times in your life, sneaking out to midnight cafes, hanging with the crowds there. It was warm. Nostalgic.

                “subtle, schmuttle.” Sans waved his hand lazily, “not everything in life’s gonna be subtle.” He’d say he would know, but… he’d probably be lying. Being forthright had never really been his thing. Papyrus’s, sure, but Sans always had the means to learn and then wait. Well… he did, when he had several timelines over to plan it all, to figure everything out. Now that he didn’t… well… he was working on it.

                “You’re right. But even so, that doesn’t mean you should be unscrupulous about everything.” You glanced over at him, propping your cheek up with your fist. “Keep everything open and it becomes a target.” At least, that’d been the situation throughout your life. Your stoicism was a necessity, even prior to becoming an officer. It wasn’t as pronounced before then, but… you never kept yourself open long enough for people to read you. “But I have a feeling you know that already.”

                Sans chuckled lowly, humorless, but not exactly bitter. Like it was just something to fill space, to keep things from becoming hostile. “and what gives you that idea?”

                “…Your face.” You stated bluntly. Sans’s eyebrow bones furrowed at the statement, and you smiled almost imperceivably. There it was. That right there was how you knew. “I’m not a psychologist, but it’s my job to understand people, at least on a basic level.” You glanced around the bar, taking note of the monsters relaxing and joyfully playing card games. They were… regular people, just housed in different sorts of bodies. Odd to think of it that way, but when it came down to it, monsters were the same as humans. “Your smile isn’t permanent, yet you keep it up. You’re hiding something. I could tell since the day you walked into my office.”

                “ ‘s just my skull.” Sans looked away as Grillby brought two plates of burgers and fries over.

                “I’m almost positive it isn’t.” You responded, glancing at the plate, but returning your eyes to the skeleton monster at your side. Now that you thought about it, you had questions about _his_ existence, too. You watched as he doused his entire meal in obscene amounts of ketchup (almost, repulsive amounts really…) before he noticed you staring.

                “…wh-what? it’s kinda weird to watch like that.”

                “How… exactly… do you work?” You tried to word the question tactfully, but didn’t mind the failure. It got your point across.

                “whaddya mean?” Sans dropped his french-fry back onto the plate, grinning lazily at the question. He was somewhat surprised he hadn’t gotten it from humans before.

                “…Your mouth never opens when you talk, but Papyrus’s does.” That was honestly just the tip of the iceberg of your questions regarding _him_ specifically. But it was the most important; you’d never given it much thought before, considering you’d met monsters who didn’t have a mouth to speak of who still spoke (yet, some couldn’t? Consistency?), but Sans was different, since you could compare him to his brother.

                “i’m a ventriloquist, actually.” His accompanying chuckle only half-way convinced you that he was joking. “ _tooth_ fully _,_ i can open my mouth whenever i want. just choose not to.”

                “…I can’t tell if you’re doing this for the sake of that one pun or not.”

                “nah. i use’ta do sock puppets for pap when he was just a babybones.” Putting aside the question of how skeletons age, that imagery of a baby Papyrus was… honestly too adorable. You’d have to check if they had any pictures out next time you went into their apartment.

                “…Cute.” You murmured softly, directing your attention to the plate Grillby had set in front of you. It looked like normal human food, smelled like it, but… it _was_ a monster establishment, so it probably was made with magic. You hesitantly put a fry into your mouth, cringing a little when the unique fizz of the magic tingled in your mouth. “Thanks for proving my point, by the way.”

                Sans did a slight doubletake, “…huh?”

                “You said it yourself. You can open your mouth whenever you want, yet you smile constantly. You’re hiding something.” When you saw how he shifted awkwardly in his seat, you couldn’t help but smirk. It made sense why he teased you over the glasses and the fort if _that_ was the result. It wasn’t just some satisfaction about making him uncomfortable, but it was like winning a prize; getting to see the physical effects of what you’d done.

                “you’re overthinkin’ this.” Sans slouched with a half-hearted shrug, using every shred of his will not to continue fidgeting. It was easy to be the one observing, to notice things about people, point them out and make them uncomfortable, but being on the opposite end… He… didn’t like it too much.

                “Well, let’s see it then.” Sans spluttered at your nonchalant suggestion. Maybe you’d somehow gotten drunk in those few seconds he looked away. When he looked you in the eyes, he had to wonder how you managed to say that without grinning. Your poker-face had to be as good as his to pull that off.

                “that was a pretty _jawing_ proposition, chief.” He eyed his plate, desperately wishing for this conversation to take a turn in literally any other direction. He had planned to eat, looked forward to it even, but now that he was being watched so closely it made him… self-conscious. And he didn’t use that term lightly- hell, he didn’t mind pigging out in front of this whole bar, but for someone to be watching him and _only him_. Well… it’d make anyone a little nervous.

                You continued to pop fries into your mouth, relaxing even more as you did, “Sounds like you’re just scared to me.” His eyelights grew at the sound of your low, yet playful tone. The bright white dots made him look like a deer caught in the headlights. Maybe that wasn’t inaccurate. “If I’m overthinking it, prove me wrong. Should be no problem if you’ve got nothing to hide, right?”

                “stars, you’re one strange lady, y’know that?” He tapped a phalange against the table, doing his best to ignore the expectant look he was receiving. “fine. i’ll show you if let me see your nails.”

                …What? You looked down at your hands, finding nothing of note with your nails. They were relatively long, sure, but nothing dramatic. They had to be kept reasonable for more hands-on activities. “…Why?”

                “why do you wanna see my teeth?”

                After a moment, you tucked your hair behind your ear. “Point taken.” You unceremoniously held out your hand to him, watching as he observed it.

                “mind if i…?” He gently took your hand in both of his, and you reflexively flinched. Sans gave a curious glance, but when he heard or saw no opposition, returned his attention to your nails. He never really noticed them before- most monsters had _claws_ , but nails were… different. Lighter. Rounded, less vicious. They were especially fascinating since human hands were virtually identical to his, in structure. He knew nerves ran through claws, so most monsters didn’t get them trimmed or cut, but humans were different. Could they feel through them?

                You quietly ate your food, suddenly understanding Sans’s hesitance. This was… sort of embarrassing. You’d never thought yourself prude, but somehow, having him hold your hand, observing it with a sort of… _reverence_ like that… It took every bad memory you’d ever had to beat down the heat rising to your cheeks. His fingers were hard, almost ceramic in feel, but not cold like you’d expect. He seemed to emanate a heat of his own, almost like he had a pulse keeping him alive. Perhaps it was the magic… The way he ran his fingers over the bed of your nails was gentle, testing. His touches were so light you’d barely noticed when they strayed past your nail bed, instead following your fingers up to the back of your palm. He traced lightly over your metacarpal bones, before flipping your hand over to push against the flesh of your palm. It had never mattered until this moment, but it was then you realized that people rarely touched you- and generally, you preferred it that way. Having Sans touch your hand like that felt… intrusive. And it was startling. It wasn’t like how you’d felt when Papyrus hugged you- that had been innocuous, even if you hadn’t reciprocated. Sans’ touch felt like it was penetrating further than your hands. Like he was… learning something about you _personally_ by doing this.

                You remained silent until he was satisfied. “heh, hope i didn’t get too _hand_ sy with ya there.” You brought your attention back to him, unsure of what to make of his demeanor.

                “It’s fine.” You cleared your throat, “If you took any longer though, people might’ve started watching.”

                Sans wasn’t sure if he was disappointed when you failed to insult him for his pun, or flattered. “nah. i think i _hand_ led it pretty well.”

                “One was plenty. Don’t push it.” You sighed, rolling your eyes at his grin. “Well. Your turn.” Sans smiled defeatedly before opening his mouth up, bearing two fangs along with the rest of his teeth. Honestly, his anatomy just confused you further. It was like a normal human jaw, all things considered, just… sharper in some places. His bones were obviously thicker, but somehow seemed more… malleable? Flexible? It was difficult to tell without touching them. It was peculiar to glance _through_ his bottom jaw, and see his clavicle peeking out from under his shirt. “I’ll be considerate and keep my hands out of your mouth.”

                “heh, grillby’s fries are the only _finger food_ i need today.”

                “Absolutely terrible. I hope you’re proud of yourself.” Judging by that self-satisfied smirk, he most definitely was.

                “you’re pretty _cheek_ y. but ya haven’t even seen the coolest part yet.” He used his magic to form his tongue, wiggling it at you teasingly. He outright laughed at the startled expression you hadn’t had time to mask. “haven’t seen a skeleton’s tongue before? hope not, it wouldn’t make a _lick_ of sense.”

                You were too distracted by his magic to even be upset by the pun. He had a tongue. He had _a tongue._ And it was blue! What is magic capable of?! You could accept skeleton monsters, you could accept he was a ventriloquist, but he _had a tongue?_ I guess that explains why he bought so many sweets if he was capable of tasting it, but that just opened up more questions you hadn’t wanted to consider. If he eats, _where does it go?_ “ _You_ don’t make any sense.”

                “well that’s rude.”

                “Then explain it. What else can you do with magic? Besides throwing me, I mean.” Sans sunk into his hoodie, looking away from you. You weren’t sure if you found it hilarious or ~~endearing~~   sad.

                “i apologized for that.” He mumbled from inside his jacket. He’d almost completely forgotten that you were here to advise him. He’d gotten used to seeing you as an officer- and one he wasn’t fond of- that being exposed to your personality somewhere else just showed him that you were still a person underneath the uniform. You felt things, and had emotions, expressions, thoughts. You were as real as he was. And he’d attacked you. He let the kid murder the entire Underground- _Papyrus included_ \- before he lifted a finger to do anything about it. And he threw _you_ against the wall at the slightest provocation that you _might_ hurt Papyrus. He thought he’d done the right thing, scaring you that way, but… it didn’t work. He just fucked everything up.

                “I remember, _John Linen_.” You knew you hadn’t outright responded to his apology. You understood, but made the choice not to say you forgave him.

                 He saw your attempt to lighten the mood and decided to take it. He could ruminate on what he’d done, but there was no changing it now. It didn’t stop the guilt twisting his nonexistent stomach, though. “there’s a lot you can do with magic. depends on the kind.” He finally got to eating his burger and fries. He was glad Grillby was as good as he was- whatever fire magic he used, the food had stayed warm despite the delay in eating it. “i can show you some day if’ya want.”

                “Alright. It’s not like we haven’t got the time.”  You absently peered at your nails, running your fingers over them. His fascination with them was weird. You’d be lying if you said the sensation of his phalanges on your hand was unpleasant, though. However intrusive it might’ve been.

                “that reminds me- why’d you tell ron to stop coming?” He remembered you said that it was a long story. Listening to someone else sounded good after being scrutinized like that.

                You sat up, surprised he even remembered after the tirade of conversations you went through tonight. You were hoping he’d forget. “Oh. Well… we had a disagreement.”

                Sans raised a brow bone. That was it? He could’ve guessed that. “over me?”

                “Not entirely. You were just the catalyst for it.” You looked away, hoping the lack of eye contact would settle you enough so you could adequately explain. “A lot of things happened before we met. He thought I was projecting those feelings onto you.” Were you? You honestly couldn’t tell. You figured Papyrus got most of those projections, when it was most prominent. “He tried to force me to explain myself, and… I couldn’t. So, to keep our work relationship steady, I removed him from this deal.”

                Sans was a little lost, but from what he could tell, pushing for more information is what started it. But he did get an interesting piece of information- _work relationship_. So… did you had a different kind of relationship? Was it a breakup? Did you take him out on some sort of forced pity date for yourself? “…break ups are hard, huh?”

                You nearly choked to death on the air. “ _E-excuse me?_ ” You’d figured he’d ask what happened before, what you were projecting about. Jumping straight to break up was so jarring you had to take a second to rethink what you’d said. “Ron wasn’t—he was only my _subordinate_. It’d be _so_ inappropriate if I were to—” You covered your face in your hands, trying to hide the flush in your cheeks, “Oh my—no. _No._ ”

                He didn’t think he’d get _that_ strong of a reaction, but he was glad he’d said it now. “i just thought you two had a thing. always together ‘n all.” He chuckled as you only turned redder. It was like watching a schoolgirl get confronted about a crush. He thought the chief of an entire station would be more… stoic about this sort of thing. He was happy to be wrong.

                “ _No._ Ron and I are only friends—good friends! I could never—we couldn’t. Ever. He’s got a fiancée and a child on the way.” You finally forced your hands away from your face, “I can’t believe you actually said that.” You cleared your throat, regaining your composure, “A-anyway, I did it for both of our sakes. I wanted to make sure our _friendship_ remained intact without any pressure on our work.”

                “why couldn’t you answer his question?” Sans posed the question gently, watching you shuffle in your seat.

                Silence filled the space between you as you looked away. “…I’m not really the best with…” You gestured subconsciously to your chest. “…It’s a part of my job to be level-headed. I can’t base every decision on how I feel. So, I keep restrains on my emotions, to help me make decisions logically. When he pushed the question it... it _upset_ me.” You glanced at him, noting the way he was hanging on your every word. You wondered if _you_ looked like that when he was speaking. “I didn’t want to do something rash, that I might regret.”

                “ya don’t think you’ll regret being alone with me for the next four months?” Sans wondered if you’d thought this through properly. Sure, you were getting along now, and have been fine for the past couple of days, but when you fought… well… it was good to have somebody else there to even the field.

                “I do, but only because I’m the one who’s going to be subject to your jokes.” Your flippant response made him chuckle.

                “you love ‘em.”

                “About as much as I love _any_ assault on my person.”

                “harsh.”

                The conversation faded after that, and you both sat enjoying the ambiance of the bar. Sans was just glad to escape his house, even if it was for a couple of hours. Speaking of which, why had you taken him out? He wasn’t stupid, he knew Frisk said something to you that day, but… he didn’t expect Frisk would be capable of overriding legal proceedings through title alone. “by the way… what was the occasion?”

                “Hm?” You looked over at him, head tilted slightly. You looked so relaxed, so different from the usual stiff and stoic persona. Was it a front? Was this how you were with friends? Is this how Ron saw you?

                “takin’ me out. it’s not my birthday or anything.” He watched you stack the plates on top of each other, clearing the space in front of them. You were still cleaning, even in a bar? Habit, he figured. Or maybe you were a neat freak, who knows.

                You studied him, debating on telling the truth or just skirting around the subject. This was likely the most direct opportunity to bring up what Frisk had said, so you decided to go for it. “…Frisk told me that you were important. They said bad things would happen if you went missing.”

                “oh.” Sans rubbed the back of his skull. “they aren’t _wrong_ , necessarily, but… it ain’t that serious.” He felt your curious look, and continued talking in spite of himself. “one of my jobs underground was… kinda to watch people.” He realized how wrong it sounded when he put it like that. “just makin’ sure nobody did anything wrong. so i knew everybody.”

                “Sounds like an officer to me.”

                “nah, it wasn’t like that. it’s… hard to explain.” He was a judge. He _judged_ everyone. Not just the humans that fell, but other monsters as well. But he didn’t do it so much on the surface- there was no need for it. People still acknowledged him and his position, but it wasn’t like it carried the same weight that it used to. If anything, his presence was more like a deterrent for monsters who wanted to get too rowdy, but it’s not like he actually _did_ anything. Well… mostly.

                You saw him debating on what to tell you, and decided that you had enough information for now. He confirmed it himself- he _was_ important somehow. “Don’t then. That’s enough.” You glanced up as Grillby approached you, taking your plates away, and picking up a glass to polish.

                “……Anything else I can do for you?”

                “nah, thanks, grillby. couldya put it on my tab?”

                You pulled out your wallet, unwilling to have anything owed to either Sans or Grillby, “I’ve got it, actually.” Grillby’s flames flickered slightly, and you interpreted it as… surprise? Happiness? You weren’t too sure. He took your card and came back with the receipt, flames a little warmer than before it seemed.

                “……Come back any time.” He handed your card back, and you nodded. You certainly would.

                Sans wasn’t sure if he was genuinely impressed or embarrassed you’d done that. He opted to stay silent on the matter. You smiled one last time at the bartender, thanking him softly before spinning around and gesturing toward the door for the skeleton to follow. “Well, it’s late. Not all of us can sleep until noon. Come on.”

                “no need to get im _pay_ tient, chief.” He chuckled at your agonized groan as he followed you out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hand touching!! And maybe Chief is a little bit like a school girl when she gets flustered. The truth comes out: does Chief is tsundere?


	12. And Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a fun day, things are starting to get weird...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little longer of a chapter in consolation for being late with updateeees!

 

Today was your day off. You could’ve been at home in bed, or… really, that was the only thing you could think about doing. But, of course you weren’t doing that. You sighed, shuffling your soda can between your hands before knocking on the door. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so hasty in removing Ron. Then, at least, you wouldn’t have to be awake right now. Was this the lack of caffeine talking, or your actual thoughts? You didn’t know, but your mood was worsening every second longer you had to stand here for. Why had you even come this early? Half the time, Sans was asleep in the middle of the day, anyway. You groaned, glancing impatiently down at your watch. You were going to leave in 3… 2…

                “ ‘noon, chief.” Sans leaned against the door frame, taking note of your black hoodie and sweatpants. You weren’t on duty today. The last time he’d seen you even half as casual was the day of the Integration Festival, and you had been much more guarded then. It was… nice to see you like this. Sort of like the difference of meeting Undyne in her armor and meeting her just at her house. Less intimidating. “you come this early for everyone or am i special?”

                You snorted, “You know the answer to that question.” He felt himself grin; of course he knew he was a unique case, but your annoyed quips never failed to amuse him. He stepped back into his house, gesturing with his shoulder for you to enter, and he wondered absently why he was surprised when you did. It wasn’t like you didn’t already spend your time here, so what made this time different? …The outfit, he decided. He wasn’t used to you being here, dressed like… that. You wandered over to the couch, leaning against the arm, “…You know what I’m going to ask.”

                “seems like i know everything today.” He sauntered over, laying down on the couch and returning his attention to the TV. He pressed play on the remote and shot you a brief look, “can sit if you want.”

                You pursed your lips- he was avoiding her question, and you knew it, but… it wasn’t like you had anywhere else to be. So, instead of arguing, you sat down, tucking your ankle under your thigh as you did so. You immediately noticed the show was an Astronomy Documentary, just like it had been the night of the storm. So… he liked astrology. You slumped against the back of the couch, looking at him curiously. His eyelights were large, focused intently on the television. Watching his expression was probably about as interesting as the show itself. “…What’s your favorite constellation?”

                Sans’s smile almost rivaled Papyrus’s, how bright and genuine it was. In that moment, for the first time, you saw the relation. “pavo’s my favorite. not that i don’t like the rest of ‘em, but pavo reminds me of pap.” He pulled at his hoodie, “can you imagine _stars_? i mean… thinka ‘bout it. alpha pavonis alone is nearly five times bigger than _our_ sun, ‘n we’re all still getting used to _that_. just think of how _massive_ that scale is. there’s gotta be so much out there.” Sans’s eyelights blinked into blue stars and you found yourself biting her tongue ~~(…how… _adorable_~~ _)_.  “ ‘nd speaking of _so much_ , pavo’s got a meteor shower associated with it. stars _move._ it’s just debris from comets but… _wow_ —” Sans was gesturing with his hands about the scale of every solar body he could think of and you could only watch. For someone who seemed half asleep for the majority of his life, this sort of passion was… definitely jarring.

                During a second when Sans took a breath (he didn’t have lungs…?) from his rambling, you fake-coughed into your sleeve to hide a laugh, “I didn’t realize you were so into astronomy.”

                The skeleton paused, the stars in his eyes vanishing and returning to normal once he blinked. W…what was he doing? He felt his cheekbones burn when he realized he’d just rambled for a good five minutes straight. Papyrus rarely asked him about his hobby, so… maybe he’d just leapt at the chance when someone finally did. Just… stars, it was _you_? “i uh… guess you could say it left me _star_ struck.” He shrank into his jacket, waiting until the cyan he _knew_ was coating his cheeks faded away.

                “Judging by your eyes, I’d say so.” It didn’t matter how much you bit your cheek, there was no hiding the smirk that came over your face when his blue jacket practically started glowing. You never remembered Papyrus glowing this much (either from his chest or his face), but this was just too much fun.

                Sans was practically a turtle at this point, with how far he’d sunk into his jacket. He managed a weak chuckle before venturing, “uh… any chance you could forget you saw that?”

                “Zero.”

                “shit.” He forced his gaze back to the television, ignoring you as you opened up the bag you placed on the floor and removed some legal documents. He felt his nerves calm as you started looking over them intently. Only after all of the color finally left his face, did he sit up and glance over your shoulder. “you’re not in uniform today.”

                “Nice observation, Sans.” You mumbled, clicking the pen against your cheek. Why was he so… close? It didn’t bother you at the bar, or when you’d pinned him on the couch. Why were shivers going up your spine…? You continued signing the papers, forcibly paying no mind to his presence.

                “thanks, ‘m here all week.” He used his magic to gently pry the pen from your grasp. The way you stiffened didn’t escape his gaze. “aren’tcha off today? you’re workin’ too hard.” You glared at him, but your eyes didn’t hold the same heat they used to, yet for some reason, he still felt like he was hot… maybe he was remembering embarrassing himself just a minute ago.

                “My work doesn’t stop just because I’m not on the clock.” You reached for the pen that Sans was magically dangling above your head, and groaned when he raised it just out of your reach. “Sans.”

                Now that he thought about it, he’d never heard you say his name. At least, not like that. Not repeatedly. It was… strange, being acknowledged like that. A good strange. A strange he wanted to repeat. “could ask me much nicer ‘n that.”

                You refused to grasp multiple times for something you knew you knew never going to reach. You just weren’t going to play his game. Instead, you rolled your eyes, “ _Sans,_ if you don’t give me that _right now_ —”

                He chuckled at your tone. “will there be a _pen_ alty?”

                You huffed, grabbing his arm and pushing him flat on his back, “ ** _Yes._** ” You were only slightly surprised when his skeletal hand gripped your upper arm, nudging you off the couch. You huffed when your back hit the carpet- but quickly found yourself distracted with a more pressing issue. Sans followed you off the couch, but he was light- only slightly heavier than Papyrus- so when he landed on you, straddling your hips, you barely noticed. Instead, your eyes were locked on his, rising to his challenge.

                “ ‘n what’ll that be?” Sans brought the pen down near your face, chuckling when you reached for it again. Instead of raising the pen though, he grabbed your wrists, pinning them next to your head. “nope.”

                “You realize I can _throw you_ any time I want, right?” You didn’t struggle against him; his grip on your wrists was tight, but not vice-like. It was more like a deterrent, and less like an actual restraint. The weight pinning you to the floor was even less; like he wasn’t even using his full weight. Sans leaned down, that lazy grin somehow seeming much more… ~~dominant~~ confident now that you were beneath him.

                “go ahead ‘n try it.” He quirked an eyebrow bone, and his mouth opened- the way he’d shown you previously when he murmured, “i dare ya.”

                You paused, staring up at him for a moment. How _childish_ was this? But… that smirk. That confident gaze. It absolutely _heated_ you. It was a jab at your authority, a spark you hadn’t felt in years, since people rarely spoke up against you. But… you were an adult. A chief, an authority figure. You couldn’t play his games. You wouldn’t- you had paperwork to get to, you weren’t going to play his games. “I’m not going to-”

                “double dare you.” He chuckled, tightening his grip on your wrists just slightly, “ ‘nless you’re _scared_ ‘a me.”

                You scoffed. Were you scared? Maybe to some degree, you _had_ been. There was some small sector of you that knew he could probably throw you and break your spine if he really wanted to, or whatever else his magic was capable of. Even if you acted collected, given the circumstances, you _were_ at his mercy. Even if monsters claimed that humans had stronger souls, their magic evened the field quite a bit. But were you scared right now…? No. Cautious, perhaps, but not afraid. You attempted to bring your wrists up, but only paused when you felt the familiar heaviness against your wrists. You glanced to your side, “…Are you…?” When you looked, it was _his_ hand that was glowing with that blue tinge.

                “sorry to make you… _weight_ on me-” Sans chuckled, “but i guess the _pressure’s_ really on now, huh?”

                You stared at him blankly for a moment, before glaring at him. “You’re a _cheater_.” He could use his magic to increase his weight. You weren’t sure why Papyrus hadn’t done that earlier, if he had the same capabilities.

                “just playin’ the game.” He leaned in closer, “now y’know how i felt.” He murmured, recalling the feel of your hands, of being pressed against the couch, that absolute _burning_ in his soul. He could feel echoes of it now, a warmth spreading from his ribcage, but… it wasn’t unbearable now.

                Your eyebrows furrowed at the statement; you hadn’t thought about that since it happened- that day he called you a joke. Why would you have? So, he didn’t like being held down, that was fair, but it was _warranted_ then. “It’s _different_ now.” You found yourself murmuring, glancing to the side. There was nothing there to hold your attention but the carpet and the base boards, but you’d take what you could get.

                “that so?”

                Your sigh was exasperated, “Of _course._ I was—” You paused. You were _what?_ You bit your tongue, looking for something to explain it. You were… just doing your job? You were on-duty? “It’s just now-” You felt the magic from his hands fade away, and you waited until it fully dissipated before pivoting your hips and toppling him to the floor. His eyelights shrank, surprised at the sudden change but you pinned his hands above his head before he could react. He stammered a barely audible ‘fuck’ before you could hear the pen clattering to the floor somewhere beside you. “-I’m _playing_ with you.”

                Stars… Sans swore if he had a heart, it would be clamoring out of his ribcage. “h-heh, it’s a good thing i don’t have a heart, (y/n)…”

                “Wha-”

“i might’ve gone into cardiac… _arrest_.” Your hands pinning him seemed hot against his bones, your flesh something he’d never minded or cared about until it was the only thing his mind was capable of registering. Had you always been this… soft? This _hot_? Was this what you’d just felt, with him holding you down?

                “That’s the worst-” The sound of your cell phone vibrating drew both of your attention to the bag near your legs. You tilted your head before glancing back down at Sans. You studied his face, his lazy grin showing no signs of the tension and stress you were so used to seeing when you were this close before. …Were his bones always tinted with that faint cyan glow over his cheeks? You were suddenly overly aware of your grip on his wrists, of your shadow covering his face.

                _…What in the name of **fuck** did you think you were doing? _

                You immediately felt all the blood in your body rush to your face as you slowly peeled yourself from above him, and quietly began rummaging through your bag. Avidly avoiding the stare you felt piercing through your back was automatic. Forcing yourself to focus on finding your phone didn’t make the heat die down any, but it helped keep what was left of your pride intact. This wasn’t a _game_. Just because he apologized and he seemed harmless _now_ didn’t mean you could just… do what you’d done. After exhaling through your nose, you answered the call, voice as steady as it always was. “What is it, Ron?”

                “Hey, (Y/N).” His tone was loose, casual, but you still heard the hesitance lacing its way through his words. “We’re both off today. I was just wondering if you wanted to go out bowling or something.” You ran your hand through your hair, considering your options; stay here and discuss whatever… _that_ was, or go and have an equally as awkward make-up session with Ron…

                “I…” You set the black bag in your lap, pulling absently at the straps. Saying no meant you two would never fix things- but honestly, you weren’t sure if you were even ready to, yet.

                “I was going to bring Miranda, too. Just thought it’d be nice for us all to hang out, like we used to.” Ron’s silence felt oppressive, and you sighed. “I understand if it reminds you of bringing Casey. Just thought I’d extend the offer.”

                You wanted to swear at him for this. Making you feel guilty, like you’d brought every circumstance of your life down on yourself. All he was trying to do was make amends, and you knew it, but… “I’ll go.” …What? “…I’m bringing Sans, though.” _What?_

                “what?”

                “What?”

                Dead air.

                “I just… thought I’d be… nice?” You phrased the statement as a question, yet posed it as an answer to both of them. And yourself, honestly. Maybe this was just your subconscious trying to reason if you threw _all_ your social stressors together at once, you could possibly fix them all at once, or maybe ignore them instead. “And… I know he’s what you want to talk about.” Much more confident with that statement- back to normal. Had you always been this bad at social interactions, or was this just due to the nearly half a year of isolation you’d put yourself through after Casey’s murder?

                You honestly couldn’t tell. “Oh, well… alright? See you at our usual spot in an hour, then?” Ron’s voice brought you out of your internal ~~panic~~ thoughts. You made a quiet hum of agreement before hanging up and slouching back against the frame of the couch.

                “so, uh… wanna explain that or?” Sans pushed himself up, rubbing absently at his wrists as he looked you over. He’d only been from the couch, to the door, and onto the floor and so far, his entire day had been one hell of a ride.

                “…We’re going bowling with Ron.” You sighed, “…unless you want to stay here?”

                He’d never been bowling (in fact, this was the first he was hearing of it- what even is bowling?), but he couldn’t find too many reasons to argue about leaving this house. The store and their little detour to Grillby’s was about the extent of his time outside. Spending more time with Ron or you seemed like a small price to pay to enjoy the perks of being a member of society again. “nah, i’ll go. ron’s cool.” You nodded, piling the paperwork you’d set on the couch back into the folder you transported them in. As you moved to grab the pen on the ground, you pointedly looked away from Sans. “what’s with that _pen_ sive look?”

                You deadpanned. “Nothing.” You folded your arms, tapping a nervous finger against your bicep. Was he just… _not_ going to mention that? At all? …Maybe that was for the better. If he never mentioned this again, you would happily keep his starry eyes to yourself. The feel of his porcelain bones on your shoulder made you jump, and you forced yourself to stiffen at his touch.

                “we goin’ or what?” You cleared your throat, deliberately moving yourself away from his hand and standing abruptly.

                “Come on.” You put your hand over the spot he’d just touched. No officer worthy of their title would ever, _ever_ let themselves do this. Sure, he wasn’t _legally_ a criminal, and you were only watching him for your own comfort but… _no,_ stop justifying it. This is your _job._

                There. Is. _No. **Game.**_

 

                The ride there was quiet; Sans enjoyed sitting in anything that _wasn’t_ a squad car, so he happily just let himself sink into the leather seats and watch the world pass by. He’d been debating himself on asking if you were okay. After the phone rang, he felt a certain distance you’d forced between the two of you- and it was clear you’d done it intentionally; your demeanor prior to that moment was as relaxed as he’d ever seen it. Then the phone rang and this sort of… _shame_ flickered in your eyes as you looked over him and blushed (a shade of scarlet he was easily becoming fond of seeing on her). “so, what’s this bowling thing, anyway?”

                You gave him a sideways glance, “You agreed to go without knowing what it was?” You weren’t sure if he just trusted you or if he was really sick of being in that house.

                “didn’t think i had a choice’.” He shrugged, before glancing over at you, “i mean, you seemed like you _really_ wanted me there.”

                You rolled your eyes, “I was just keeping a promise to Papyrus.” Before he left, he requested that you attempt to befriend him. You hadn’t thought it was possible, but… you did say you’d try. “If you want to go back, I’ll gladly just turn arou-”

                “heh, no need to get defensive, there.” He lifted his hands in mock surrender, “just sayin’ it looks like you might actually _like_ me or somethin’” He chuckled again as that familiar red crept back onto her face. Not as vibrant, but it’d do.

                “Get real.” You murmured, clutching the steering wheel a little tighter. “I’m just doing my job.”

                Sans’s grin widened just a bit, “outta uniform, off the clock, and goin’ out with a friend? _i_ might have to become an officer if that’s the case.” Fuck. Why was he right? Your silence only proved his point. By the time you pulled into the bowling alley’s parking lot, Sans realized he never got an answer to his question.

 

                Bowling was simple in concept, Sans found. Roll the ball, knock the pins, so _why_ was he utter shit at it? He’d just taken to pushing the ball down the lane with minimal amounts of effort and it still veered off course and into the gutter. He sighed, dropping himself into the seat next to the pregnant brunette Ron had introduced fondly as Miranda. “Don’t worry, everyone is always bad at first.”

                “heh, maybe bowling’s just not up my _alley._ ” He smiled at the genuine chortles of laughter. With how sarcastic and deadpan you were, he was starting to think his puns may’ve not been funny at all. “with how i’m _striking_ out, from my _frame_ of reference, it might just be best to _spare_ me!”

                Near the lanes, you and Ron glanced back at the two. “They’re sure getting along.” Ron said, testing his ball’s weight. He knew Sans was a funny guy, but he didn’t think he’d have to worry about his own fiancée being charmed by him.  He nudged your shoulder, dragging your attention away from the cackling pair.

                “…As long as his puns aren’t directed at _me_ , I guess I should be happy.” You stretched your shoulders, bringing your attention to the lanes. “Haven’t played in a while. You might actually beat me for once.”

                Ron nearly snorted, “ _Might?_ I’ve been waiting for the day you came back out!” He strutted over to the lane, “I hope you’re ready to buy the drinks, (Y/N), because I’m _definitely_ winning this time.” He held the ball to his chin, took a breath, then sent it down the lane, crashing into pins with a flawless strike. He turned back, smirking confidently, “Your go.”

                You shrugged. His overconfidence would just make him look silly once he lost. Like he always did. Stepping up to the lane, you followed the same steps, and watched the ball roll down the lane, and… veer off to the left…? You felt your eye twitch as you watched it just barely scrape the pins and fall into the gutter. Ron could be heard chuckling from behind you.

                And now you were pissed.

                “S-Shut the hell up, Ron.” You murmured when the ball finally came back. You’d aimed that perfectly, you _knew_ so. You didn’t half-ass these games. When you stepped up the second time, you took a breath. Okay. If your neutral throw veered to the left, you’d just have to put a slight spin to the right on it, to counteract it, that’s all. No big deal. You calmed your nerves, following through with this new plan. You watched with your arms folded as the ball followed the path as expected until it hit the first few pins then continued off to the right.

                When you came back to the table, Ron patted you on the back patronizingly, “Hey, nothing wrong with being out of practice. I can go easy on you if you want.”

                You watched Sans wander off to go push his ball down the lane before giving Ron an unimpressed stare. “I’d sooner resign as Chief than even _consider_ taking you up on that offer.” He chuckled. Even if you were doing poorly, he was glad to see that fighting spirit. At least you weren’t upset.

                By your third turn, you were nearly pulling your hair out. You knew you weren’t this bad at bowling. You _knew_ it. Okay. Maybe it was… the ball? You looked backwards, noting Ron was watching closely, and Miranda and Sans were still engaged in conversation. If you were going to lose anyway, you might as well figure out _why._ You tossed the first ball straight, watching it more carefully than anyone probably had any right to. As previously, it went left. The second turn though, you decided to put a you’d put a heavy left spin on it. Not even aiming for the pins, just straight for the gutter. If the pattern so far kept up, then it would go right again.

                You sent it down the lane, watching the ball head immediately for the gutter before abruptly switching directions and heading for the right side of the lane. And _this_ time, you noticed the faint blue tint surrounding it.

                That. **_Dick_**.

                You turned around, arms folded, tapping your foot expectantly. The skeleton in question shrugged before nervously chuckling, and looking back guiltily at Miranda. Shit. He’d only been using the smallest touch of magic to nudge the ball in a certain direction before the glow became noticeable. When the spin was the complete opposite, he might’ve… panicked a little. “Well, Ron.” Sans listened to your voice, and though you hadn’t addressed _him_ , he still felt chills run through his body at your tone. “I’m sure you saw that.”

                Ron huffed, obviously disgruntled at the prospect his success so far being disingenuous. And here he’d thought that you were finally just slipping. He gave an exaggerated sigh- first Sans flirts with his wife, now he was pulling the rug out from under him? Maybe you were _right_ to be as wary of him as you had been. “I did.”

                “Oh, good.” You sauntered back over to where Sans sat with Miranda, ducking his head down and staring intently into a paper menu to avoid whatever conversation he felt was coming up. Your gait was slow- dangerously slow- and even despite it, Sans knew you were making a beeline right for him. “I thought I was seeing things.” He felt you stop behind him, your presence dark and oppressive. If you had an aura, he knew it’d be devouring his, without a doubt. He felt you lean down over his shoulder, and he used every ounce of his control to stop himself from shuddering.

                “little close there…” Sans scooted away, looking, in vain, at Miranda for help. “d-don’cha think?” Miranda smiled helplessly at the skeleton for standing up to leave him to his fate. _She_ knew better than to get in the middle of this kind of thing. Last time she tried to get in the middle of a bowling dispute between you and Ron she ended getting the cold shoulder from both of you.

                “We both know I’ve been closer.” You murmured absently- the venom of your words only implied by hand you set down threateningly on the table. “Speaking of _close_ \- Ron and I have a tight competition going. Or. Did. Until you _ruined_ it.”

                Sans chuckled, though he wasn’t sure if he was just nervous or if it was genuinely hilarious how upset you were over this. “guess i really… _curved_ your results, huh? put’em straight in the _gutter?_ ” There was a brief spark in your eyes- anger, annoyance, frustration, but you just face-palmed with a mix of a defeated sigh and restrained laugh.

                “The worst.” You glanced at him between your fingers, “You. _The **worst**!_ ”

                He was genuinely surprised when you just shook your head, keeping your face buried between your hands. …did that actually… work? You were… _laughing_ at him? At his _pun?_ He felt his face heat up (or… was it his entire body? He couldn’t even tell at this point), and his mind scrambled, thinking of any other pun, but stars, nothing stuck in his head long enough to say it. “i could uh—buy drinks? y’know… to make up for it?”

                After a moment you sighed again, leaning against the table, tilting your head back toward Ron. “Sound good to you?”

                “Weeell, I was _hoping_ to get them from you, but… sure. I’ll just have to beat you next time.” He shrugged, putting his arm around Miranda. Sans nodded, before walking off to make good on his word. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t drank since… well. He didn’t like to remember passing out in his closet. But at least the occasion would be positive, this time… He wasn’t sure what either of them would want, but you seemed to enjoy Grillby’s food, so maybe you’d be willing to try monster alcohol as well?

 

                Once Sans came back with the glowing glasses, you watched as Ron and Sans both tried it out. You’d never been too much of a drinker. You knew your limits _before_ you drank- literally, one glass of anything. Ever. But once you started, you’d always somehow manage to talk yourself into two. Or four. Or until you were blackout drunk on the roof somehow. Yeah. You knew better than this. Besides, you were a responsible adult; someone had to make sure everyone could get home alright.

                “Oh, you’re not drinking, (Y/N)?” Miranda asked, sipping at her water, “I thought you’d want to.”

                You shrugged, watching Sans finally go take his turn and push the ball down the lane. If he was really that bad at it, why didn’t he just use his magic to cheat for _himself_ , instead of screwing with you? You didn’t get him. Even earlier, at his house, you didn’t really understand. Maybe, to some degree, you just didn’t understand _yourself_ but… he just made you more confused. “Sans can’t drive. Someone has to take him back.”

                “Speaking of Sans,” Ron cut in, following your gaze, “You two seem to be… on much better terms.” The question was there, even if he hadn’t directly asked it.

                “…I spoke to him. That’s all.” You tucked your hair behind your ear, recalling how he held your wrists earlier. He wasn’t so bad. But you wouldn’t be telling that to Ron- you couldn’t handle any ‘I told you so!’s right now. Even if he deserved them.

                “So it _was_ him you spoke to.” Ron muttered, seemingly to himself. He looked as though he wanted to bring it up again, but instead swallowed the question with another drink. He excused himself to go get another drink, and once he was out of earshot, a glint appeared in Miranda’s eyes.

                “You seem a lot happier.” Miranda smiled slyly, “Is it because of him?” For a moment, you lost your entire vocabulary. You? Happier? _What?_ You literally acted the same way for who knows how long- what is she even talking about? You went through your entire memory bank, attempting to find some instance- _any instance-_ of your mood shifting somehow.

                After a moment of shocked silence, you managed a weak, “What?” Even if you had been in a better mood- which, you hadn’t- what would even imply that Sans would be the cause? He was just frustrating, if anything. A short skeleton monster who wanted to try your patience at every turn. What about that would be a _good_ thing? “Even if I was, it’d just be happenstance.”

                “You’re really devoted to this ‘tough-girl’ look, aren’t you?” Miranda sighed, “I don’t see why it’d be so bad if he makes you happy.” You swore if you rolled your eyes any harder, you’d give yourself a migraine. You weren’t devoting yourself to any sort of ‘look’- you were just doing what was necessary. If it meant being hardened, then so be it; that was your duty.

                Flippantly, you finally responded, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

                “Is it because he’s a monster?” Miranda cut straight through the bullshit and to the point, “Would you date him if he was a human?”

                The soda you were sipping on went down the wrong pipe, and you braced the table in some weak attempt to stop choking to death, “ _Wh_ -” You clutched her chest, “Wh-hat? Wh-why would you _even_ -?” Miranda needed to stop reading those damn romance novels, in your opinion. “He doesn’t even d _-”_

                “whatcha talkin’ about over here?” Sans returned with Ron, a little bluer than when he’d left. You didn’t even need to ask if they’d gotten more drinks- you could smell the alcohol on him.

                “Nothing.” You responded quickly, ensuring Miranda wouldn’t answer first. “Bowling is going to be a challenge if you’re drunk, you know.” Ron was bracing against the table, muttering something about a contest. You were glad Miranda would be able to drive him home.

                “i’ll just have to give it my best… _shot_.” He chuckled at his own joke. His laugh was loose, less controlled than his usual baritone. “gotta admit though, you set the _bar_ pretty high.”

                Even as you rolled her eyes, you still could feel the smile tugging at your lips.

 

                After another hour, and who knows how many drinks later, the decision to wrap your little get-together up was made. Sans was passed out, arms crossed on the table and Ron was drooping right there beside him. Wrangling them out to the cars was easier said than done. “Drive safely, Miranda.” You sent the two off with a wave before getting into your own car.

                You glanced at Sans- practically his own beacon of light with how vibrant the blue glow across his face was. What even _was_ magic? You chuckled to yourself defeatedly. You’d probably never understand monsters- what they were, or how they worked. But he looked totally harmless asleep like that… The ride back was silent, leaving you with just your thoughts. What was he dreaming about? Stars, probably. What was with his astronomical fascination, anyway? Maybe it was just a result from being trapped Underground; if he was born under there, then stars might as well have been myths. Just tales he never thought he’d live to see. Of course, they’d sound fascinating to someone who’d never seen them before. Like glimmers of hope, probably. It’d probably be equivalent to a human hearing about a cave filled to the brim with diamonds.

                You observed him again, eyesockets closed and his chest rose and fell as he snuffled quietly, pressing his worn sleeve against his cheek as a makeshift pillow. Diamonds were probably mundane to someone like him.

                Yet, here he was, on the surface. Free to study his version of diamonds to his heart’s(?) content. He’d probably go nuts in an observatory.

                Your thoughts were cut short as you pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building. Last stretch then you could finally get home yourself. The sun was only just starting to set, but other than paperwork, there wasn’t anything more you needed to do. “Hey, wake up.” You nudged his shoulder gently, but a snore was the only response you received.

                Oh, well. Efficiency first. You got out of the car, coming around to the passenger’s side and easily scooping Sans up in your arms. You closed the door with your hip and headed toward the apartment. Where did he keep his key again? Jacket pockets were likely the safest bet… While considering this, you felt the skeleton in your arms shift, wrapping his arms around you; his eyes blinked open just for a moment, before sliding lazily toward the door. “i got it, paps—” With a slight flick of his hand, he magicked the key into the hole and the door pushed open. “thanks’fer carryin’ me ‘gain…”

                You stared at him silently for a second, but couldn’t help but smile anyway. So, Papyrus carried him around like that? Maybe Papyrus _was_ the older one. You always used to whisk Casey around like this (much to his chagrin), but he always appreciated it when he was younger. Sans was one lucky guy to have such a kind-hearted brother.

                No wonder he wanted to protect him so badly.

                “Go back to sleep.” You said gently, looking back as the door closed behind you. You could always just dump him on the couch and call it a night, but… he was gripping you pretty tightly. Setting him down didn’t seem like it’d make him let go. And… well… he was warm. It reminded you of better times. When you were able to be unabashedly happy, when Casey was still around for you to care for. You wandered toward the couch, pausing to notice that… his jacket was glowing again. You sighed, taking a step toward the couch while the snow beneath your feet crunched in the silence.

                What?

 

                You blinked, looking around at the room, now suddenly a white forest. Silent and devoid— somewhere you’d never seen or been. You continued to plod forward, the snow caving beneath your feet seeming deafeningly loud in the solitude of whatever forest this was. Your chest clenched- a trepidation you couldn’t identify a reason for having welling up, threatening to tear you in half as you kept walking. Why… couldn’t you stop walking…? The snow fall thickened to almost a mist, obscuring everything from view except two shadows merely meters away. Then you stopped.

                _“IT FEELS…”_

                You immediately recognized Papyrus’s voice, and at it, every inch of your body froze over. The snow hadn’t been cold, but hearing his voice in the distance… you shuddered. You felt your hands shove deep into your pockets.

                _“LIKE YOUR LIFE IS GOING DOWN A DANGEROUS PATH.”_

                You weren’t sure why, but you felt… like that was an understatement. Your fist clenched, as you continued to watch the figures, unblinking. Body tense, an instinct to move nagging just below your clothes, yet you stood there. Unmoving. Watching.

_“HOWEVER! I, PAPYRUS, SEE GREAT POTENTIAL WITHIN YOU!”_

                You felt your hand twitch- the urge to do something to stop this manifesting itself physically. Yet, you _couldn’t_. You couldn’t move, couldn’t look away. All you could do was watch. Wait.

                “ _EVERYONE CAN BE A GREAT PERSON IF THEY TRY!”_

Something is wrong. Something is _horribly wrong_. The longer you stood there, the more the fear in your body grew. You knew what was going to happen- you could feel it coming, and you couldn’t _do anything._ Move. _Move._ For the love of god, please-

                You looked down, a familiar blue jacket donning you. Papyrus’s cheerful yet… _terrified_ voice, seemed to fade into the background once you looked away. You never heard him sound like that, and his tone was just a vice grip on your heart.

                _“I, PAPYRUS, WELCOME YOU WITH OPEN ARMS!”_

                Oh, please, **_don’t_**. You felt your gaze force back up on the shadows. The smaller approached Papyrus, and that silence. It was haunting. He needed to _run_ , get out while he still could, but no words would escape you. No matter how much you called for him, told him to _get out_ , only silence.

                A single blow. A single hit, and Papyrus’s familiar form disintegrated, scattering, mixing dust with snow until they were indistinguishable from each other. He’d said something else- but you couldn’t decipher it over your own deep breaths. Sorrow and hatred warred within you, a battle so loud you couldn’t even hear the sounds of the snow as you ran over to where Papyrus once stood. A bright red scarf lay on the ground- and suddenly the word seized your mind.

 

                “Again.” Barely a whisper that you choked out. _Again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That pen scene wasn't supposed to be there. That's what happens when you write with "Careless Whisper" playing in the background.  
> Also, what the fuck is going on with these two? And is Miranda a shipper? Find out next time.


	13. Forgive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there's more than information shared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also in which Sans spends half the chapter in your lap. 
> 
> I said these chapters were going to be just fluff, but I'm a damn dirty liar.

The word left you before you could even comprehend why exactly you were saying it- were you referring to what Sans had said, or were you referring to Casey? You weren’t even sure, but the words bubbled out before you could attempt to filter them, “Again- _again_! What the _fuck_ was that—?” You whispered under your breath, voice hoarse as you gripped the skeleton in your arms, “Papyrus, oh god, not _Papyrus_ …” You hated that ache in your chest, a pit being burned through you, creating a sense of loneliness, of guilt and responsibility, and just _emptiness_ you hadn’t felt since the day you pulled that black sheet off of Casey’s corpse. You never thought you’d be able to feel that hurt again- you never _wanted_ to feel that sting again.

Why had you even seen that? It wasn’t a dream- you had been fully awake and aware the entire time. That was too vivid to be a dream- at least, in the traditional sense of a dream. Was it some type of out-there premonition, some obscure way your mind was punishing you for sending off the nicest monster you’d ever met into a group that had done some irreversible damage to _you_? Fuck, you hoped he wasn’t going to _die_. Papyrus didn’t deserve to _die_. You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply, hoping to calm your nerves. Only when you exhaled did you realize that it wasn’t just your breath that was shaky- your entire body was quivering. You bowed your head, snickering defeatedly at yourself. How could you be such a goddamn mess?

You’d never felt nauseous watching a monster turn to dust before. It was disheartening, sure, but watching anyone die was. As unfortunate as it was, watching that sort of thing just became… procedure, in your line of work. Developing a sense of apathy toward death was just a necessity. But, watching Papyrus fade away, mix into the snow, where there was nothing of _him_ left? You wanted to vomit. “…did you…” Sans’s voice broke the silence, and your eyes finally met his, startled to realize that he was awake, “…did you _see_ that?”

You blinked at him, furrowing your brows. You didn’t know how he knew what you’d seen, you were too frazzled to even try and think it through. “…Papyrus-” You felt your throat tighten, “He was—” You clutched tighter at his jacket- why couldn’t you say the words? He was _killed. Murdered. Dead._

…But… he wasn’t _really_ …? Right?

“you don’t haveta…” Sans looked away, small white eyelights focused on the strings of your hoodie, “i know what you saw.” He shrank down, somewhat comforted by your hold. He’d never woken up in someone’s grasp after a nightmare, but… it helped steady him. It grounded him immediately, rather than taking those few minutes of pure panic and terror, trying to decipher whether he was in Snowdin again, whether Papyrus was alive or not. He wasn’t happy, but… he was calm, for sure. “…’s only a dream.” He said softly, meeting your eyes once more, hoping his voice would serve as some sort of comfort for you.

…Was that how he looked whenever he woke up from his nightmares? Shaking, sweating, pale? He was just glad it wasn’t him this time. “…Why the hell did I see that?” You finally murmured after your voice steadied and the tears threatening to spill over subsided.

“my dream…? wish i knew.” Sans shrugged, peering down at his sleeves. When had he… wrapped his arms around you like that…? Not that he minded right now. He’d take all the physical comfort he could get for right now.

…Maybe he was still drunk.

“…’m kinda glad you did though.” He mumbled, stretching his legs out on the remainder of the couch. He’d never mentioned his nightmares to anyone else- not to Toriel, not to Alphys, not to Frisk (partly because he feared getting a confirmation that they weren’t dreams, and instead, _were_ memories of previous timelines), and especially not to Papyrus. He’d never talked about them, and suffering quietly was the only thing he could do… but now, as guilty as he felt about it, they were being shoved onto you. You’d seen Papyrus die, too. He didn’t know why you’d seen it, but now he wasn’t so… _alone_ anymore. “…i’ve been having that dream for years…”

He felt your gaze on him, but he kept his eyes down. It was hard enough speaking honestly. He couldn’t deal with you judging him. “it’s why i was so suspicious of you. you saw how easy it was for…” he trailed off, sighing quietly before he continued to speak, “…when i saw you hurt him, i just… i… had to protect him this time. i couldn’t let him die again, not after we finally got on the surface.” He felt a tightening in his chest. He’d never had a chance to talk about this, but he didn’t think he’d get overwhelmed _that_ quickly… “it… it just took _so damn long_. we couldn’t lose it now…”

You nodded solemnly, watching the skeleton ramble. You were somewhat sure it was mostly to himself- that he was just saying these things out loud to get them off his chest, and… you could understand that. You would have been paranoid too if you had dreams about monsters murdering Casey before it happened. “I get it, Sans.” Your tone was low, and you wanted to chide yourself for your choice in words, but you really were attempting to be supportive and understanding.

“…you _do_?” Somehow, he didn’t think a dream of watching someone else’s beloved brother die helplessly would really entail a full understanding of the situation. And even if it did, that didn’t factor in watching the genocide of his home by a small child who was supposed to be one of his closest friends. “i ‘preciate the sentiment (y/n), but i don’t think y’do…”

You studied him closely, how his bright eyelights focused on different places, and how the cyan light that had shone so brightly in his chest before had died down, now only lighting his collarbone and chin, before you looked away, letting your nerves ease. You _could_ get offended at him squandering your support, but it’d make sense that he wouldn’t know- you never said anything about Casey to him. “…No, Sans, you don’t understand. I _know_.” Your tone softened, a dormant habit awakened stirred awake by the memories you’d been trying so hard to lock away.

Sans felt a chill run through his spine. He’d never heard you sound so gentle, so open. He didn’t think your voice was even capable of going into such a range, a calm cadence that sort of reminded him of Toriel, in a way. Just… purely affectionate. And horrendously melancholy. “Casey.” You smiled, somewhere between bitter and nostalgic. “He wasn’t quite the saint that Papyrus was, but… I loved him all the same.” You did your best not to mind his silence. Usually, you’d be glad for it, but now… it made you self-conscious. “Three months before Papyrus joined the academy, my brother was murdered by a monster.”

You looked out the window, not watching anything in particular. “His soul just… shattered. Split apart. I didn’t… I didn’t really understand. I still don’t. But… when I said _I get it_ \- your need to protect Papyrus from me- I _meant_ that. It’s… it’s the same reason I was trying to get him out of the academy.” You smiled joylessly, “It’s the reason I put _you_ under house arrest. I was terrified. Of Papyrus. Of you. Of all monsters.”

Sans damn near cringed at the way the pangs of guilt pierced through his ribcage, his sternum, his soul. What… what was he supposed to say to that? He just thought you were a racist just- just _because._ Of course, he understood a little more when you explained yourself on that rainy day, how you were responsible for Ebott and its safety, but you hadn’t said _this._ Stars, he’d been a total hypocritical prick without even realizing it. He’d assaulted you- with _magic_ \- the thing that **_killed_** _your brother-_ for essentially doing the same exact thing he was. Just… just trying to protect what he had left. What _you_ had left. “i…i’m sorry about your brother.” He weakly managed after a painfully long silence.

You barely glanced at him before you just shrugged. “…Thanks.”

He hated that the pain just seemed to multiply- every time he pulled out one shard, it just fractured into more until it was just overwhelming his entire body.  He knew that ‘sorry’ wasn’t going to cut it, just like it hadn’t with Papyrus, but… what else could he even say? “…and uh… i’m… sorry about… throwing you, too… i didn’t know that-”

“I know you didn’t, Sans.” When you finally held his gaze, your eyes just… gripped him. How could you manage to be stoic, yet… so… vibrant? Had your eyes always been that way…? “You already apologized. We don’t have to do this again.”

“no! stars, no, we _do._ ” The first time he’d apologized to you, it was because of Papyrus. He was sorry he’d done it because it had completely squandered Papyrus’s chances in the academy, and forced you into a difficult position. This time though? When all the pieces were together? He was apologizing to you, because he understood what you were going through, what you must’ve felt. “just… just lemme apologize, a’right? even if… you don’t…it’s just that- i mean-” He found himself stammering over his words, and he wasn’t even sure why. “i just—stars, look, i’m-”

“…Relax.” The word was barely above a whisper, yet it somehow made him sit up straighter. No wonder how you became Chief with command like that. It wasn’t even an explicit order (not that he was particularly predisposed to follow those anyway) yet he still found himself inhaling.

“i just… is there any way i can make it up to you?”

He watched you begin to shake your head, before you abruptly stopped, “Actually…” You tilted your head slightly, “…Answer some of my questions?”

He hesitantly nodded. Answering questions was easy. Or… should be easy. He wasn’t entirely sure what you’d even want to ask about.

First and foremost, you wanted to know about right now. If you’d noticed anything about Sans in your time of watching him, it was that he was avoidant. Which, you really didn’t mind- whatever he knew wasn’t really your business, but now that you had the opportunity… “That dream. With Papyrus- why did I…?”

He shifted slightly, glancing down at his shirt, “…sorry, chief. i honestly have no clue why y’saw it. it’s never happened to me before.” In fact, he’d never even heard of it being a thing before. Toriel might have some clue- maybe after he was off house arrest, he’d ask about it the next time he saw her. “same thing with the glowin’ too. i know it’s my soul, but… i dunno what it’s reactin’ to…”

“…Okay.” There go your most prominent questions. “…I’ve got another one.” He looked up, giving you his attention and you shifted yoour gaze to the picture hanging on the wall- the one you’d noticed the first time you ever visited. “…Why do you have a picture of a femur on your wall?”

He stared at you, eyebrow bones furrowing slightly. It was hard to tell with you sometimes- but that was your attempt at clearing the air, wasn’t it? Trying to make things less tense, the same way you had at Grillby’s. He wasn’t sure why you kept doing this, when you were well within your right to make him squirm for what he’d done to you, but he saw the opportunity. “huh? ‘smatter? you don’t like it? it’s a _bone-fide_ piece of artwork. we were gonna get a portrait of the _bona lisa_ , but we thought this one really _thighed_ the place together.”

Even when you expected it, _walked right into it_ , it was still painful. But… at least it didn’t feel as uncomfortable when he was grinning lazily again. Only when you moved to pinch the bridge of your nose did you realize that Sans was still sprawled across your lap. And… his arms were still hooked around your waist. It was different when he was asleep- when he had no memory- or _intention_ \- of touching you like that. Now that you realized his hands had been there the whole time, you were painfully aware of the pressure of his fingers against you. You cleared your throat, hoping it’d beat back the heat threatening to take over your face, “Glad you’re feeling better. One last question.”

“yeah?”

“…Would you mind getting off now?” You raised your arms to her sides, hoping it would encourage him to get up faster. Or at the very least remove his arms. Or both. Yes. Both.

Sans chuckled, slipping his hands from around you and shuffling to sit on the couch beside you instead. “sorry. hope that wasn’t a total… _waist_ of your time.”

“ _Don’t._ ” As soon as he was set, you forced herself off the couch, straightening your hoodie as you did so. “Okay. I have work tomorrow.” Putting work into your thoughts easily made the heat lingering around your waist and burning your face disappear. “Just text me if you need anything or something. Okay? Okay.” You pushed your hair back, shoving your free hand into your pocket.

“sure thing, (y/n). see ya.” Sans gave you a lazy wave as you retreated toward the door. Once it clicked shut and he was left alone in the silence of his apartment, he put his hand over his sternum, clutching the fabric there.

 

The next day, you sat at her desk, flipping through files, like usual. Maybe it was because of your recent association with Sans (and Papyrus, she reminded yourself), but cases of missing monsters seemed to be rising recently. Perhaps now you were just taking note of it? You’d have to alert your field officers to watch out for violence or suspicious activity in monster communities. You couldn’t do much without having direct reports, but preventative measures wouldn’t hurt. Perhaps you could get in contact with Asgore about it…

Your mind wandered to possible solutions, until a halfhearted knock on the door drew your attention away. Before you could even respond, Ron walked in, bags obviously under his eyes. You stared back down at the papers to help ignore the urge to snicker at him. “Good morning, Deputy. Fit for duty, I’d assume?”

Ron groaned, “My vomit was _glowing,_ Chief _._ I think we’re lucky I’m not _dead._ ”

You didn’t miss a beat, “Strange. I didn’t think you were drinking moonshine last night.”

Your second in command recoiled, lost somewhere between agony and shock. “Did you just-” You made a _joke_. And not just any joke. It was a _pun_. “…Are you sure you’re (Y/n) and not Sans?”

You scoffed, “I’m positive I’m me. I can issue you a mandatory firearm practice today to prove it, if you’d like?” At Ron’s cringe, you smirked. You were glad you’d gone bowling yesterday. You both didn’t really talk things through, but you liked him coming into your office just to talk. Things felt _normal_ like this.

 

At Sans’s apartment, he woke up to the silence- something he still wasn’t quite used to despite it being nearly a month or two since Papyrus left for training. He tried not to count, honestly. He rolled over on his bed, watching the tornado in the corner of his room with a fuzzy mind. Yesterday’s events were still lingering there, and as soon as he recalled your soft voice, the pangs of guilt stabbed at him again.

He groaned, folding his arms over his eyes. Now that he thought about it, he never really got to apologize the way he wanted to. You asked questions, sure, but he couldn’t even answer those. Nothing had really been fixed. What a great way to start the morning.

He rolled out of bed, shrugging his jacket on halfway before simply giving up and letting it hang off of his elbows. He’d… never really had to apologize before- at least, not in his recent memory. Things were basically scripted, why would he ever do anything wrong? This was just as bad as trying to apologize to Papyrus. He walked into the kitchen, pushing aside some old paper plates and crumpled up paper towels to reach for a mug. Didn’t usually drink coffee- that was Pap’s sort of thing normally- but he was slightly hungover (ok, more than slightly) and he needed something magical to counteract it.

After he got settled on the couch with his cup, a knock at the door nearly had him spill it all over himself. He knew that wasn’t you, you knocks were much harder. So…Frisk, probably. “door’s open, kiddo.” Honestly, he just didn’t want to get up again. When the door clicked open and his young pal entered, he wasn’t sure how to feel. One hand, this was Frisk, the monster who befriended and freed nearly every monster. On the other, that dream—memory…?

‘You look like a mess, Sans.’ Frisk signed once they settled themselves next to him on the couch. Sans chuckled, continuing to sip his coffee, ‘More than usual, I mean.’

“that hurts a lot, kid.” Sans put a hand on his chest, feigning offense, but really, his heart wasn’t in it. He was still trying to think through this apology thing. “maybe even im _mess_ uarbly.”

 Frisk giggled at his joke, ‘Really, Sans, what’s wrong? Please don’t lie.’

Dull eyelights scanned over Frisk, but for once, he wasn’t sure what he was looking for. “just been thinkin’, ‘s all.” He grabbed the remote with his magic, dropping it into Frisk’s lap, hoping it’d distract them enough. Of course, they completely ignored it, “i mighta… done… something.” Understatement. At Frisk’s curious look, he continued to talk, “…that i wanna ‘pologize for…”

‘I can help!’ Frisk’s usual calm countenance absolutely lit up. Helping Sans- helping _Sans!_ They never got to do that! ‘Who are you apologizing to?’

Sans froze, his usual smirk glued in place. Nope. Nope, nope nope, _no_. “ ‘s a little personal kid.” Frisk drooped at his answer and the skeleton immediately felt guilty. Again. Frisk was incredibly mature, but, still a kid. Fuck. “kay, look, they’re, uh… a girl.”

Frisk smiled, was it Toriel? Did he finally make a move? But… an apology? They hadn’t seen him do anything wrong…? Maybe this was just one of those things they happened to overlook. Frisk tapped their chin in thought- Toriel always enjoyed receiving flowers, so maybe that would make a good apology. ‘Why don’t you get her flowers!’

Sans nearly spat out his coffee. “i, uh… yeah, no.” Chief? _Flowers?_ You didn’t strike him as the type to appreciate that kind of thing. The only thing he regularly saw you with was soda, and that seemed like a cheap apology (though, if someone apologized to _him_ bringing ketchup, he’d be pretty satisfied).

‘No, it’ll work. I promise! She’ll love flowers. And a card, too!’ Frisk was on their feet in a moment, ready to see this through. Sans sighed, knowing there was no winning against DETERMINATION. Flowers and a card it is, then. He supposed he couldn’t really complain. It was better than whatever he came up with- which was nothing.

Frisk grabbed him by the hand dragging him out of the house barely sparing him a moment to lock the door. “actually, kid- let’s take a shortcut.” Sans offered his arm to the ambassador and off the two went to Asgore’s Flower Shoppe.

When he’d stepped foot inside, he was grateful that it was mostly empty (except the large goat king himself), as his ankle bracelet started loudly protesting. Frisk looked at him sadly, but decided it’d probably only sour his mood if he received pity about it. If he got in trouble with you, then Frisk would gladly take responsibility for it. ‘Hey, Sans, this book has flower meanings in it.’ Frisk pulled the skeleton’s sleeve drawing his focus away from the periodic beeping coming from his ankle. ‘It’ll be easy to apologize with these.’

“…huh. still dunno about this, but thanks, kid.” He flipped through the pages, and was surprised to find that building a bouquet was much easier than he thought it was going to be. The flowers practically chose themselves.

 

At the station, you leaned against the wall, watching the recruits practice arresting techniques. You still hadn’t figured out a way around magic, and that bothered you. How would you help human officers against monster assailants? Maybe it really _was_ necessary to start a monster squadron. This issue wouldn’t be confined for Ebott for long- even though it’s been two years, most of the monster population was housed here, but they’d branch out eventually. It’d be a country wide epidemic, having officers panic the way you did. You’d have to send a message to the Supervisory Special Agent about an increase in funds for that sort of thing. Big change, but if you got enough government officials to back it (which, wouldn’t be hard. Politicians love numbers. Heaven knows you’ve got enough of those), then it could probably be processed and out the door by early next year. Having monster officers in other parts of the country would also encourage citizens to have a positive outlook on the following residents, too.

Your thoughts were interrupted as your phone buzzed violently. You pulled it out, noting Sans’ ankle ID number was pretty far from his house. Peculiar, but… he wasn’t really a threat. Really, you ought to have taken that off of him by now. This was the first time he ever even tipped the proximity alert. You sighed, shutting the alert and heading back to your office. Those letters weren’t going to write themselves.

After sitting down and getting halfway through one, the papers on your desk stared you back in the face. Monsters going missing. Right. You tapped your keyboard absently. How likely was it really that _he’d_ just happen to be next? You scoffed, continuing to type away until the chime in the back of your mind grew into a blare you couldn’t ignore. How upset would Papyrus be if something actually _did_ happen to him. How bad would _you_ look if you didn’t check?

“Fuck me.” You grumbled, slamming your hand on the desk. He would’ve probably just shot you a message if he was going somewhere, wouldn’t he? And where would he even _go_? He barely got off the couch. Something was probably wrong. You passed by Ron’s office just to poke your head in, “I’ll be back.”

He took one look at your face before just chuckling. “Heaven save the souls of whoever scorned _you_.”

 

The drive didn’t take long. You slammed your car door, following your phone’s tracking app. You pushed the door open, glower set in place. “Welcome!” A familiar voice boomed from further in. “How may I—oh.” The horned king tilted his head slightly as he looked down at you. “Is something wrong?”

Your demeanor only slightly softened when you looked up at Asgore. “Good morning, Asgore.” You exhaled, “Something is wrong, actually. Is Sans here, by chance?”

“Oh, he is, indeed. I’ve just finished making this wonderful bouquet for him.” Asgore lifted his furry hands to show off the flowers he’d arranged. It was made of such… sad colors. Blues. Purples. You hadn’t read up on flowers in a long time, but the blues appeared to be Hydrangeas, and the purples Hyacinths, it looked like. The only thing to offset them were vibrant white Gladiolus flowers stuck between them.*

“Very well done, Asgore. It’s a beautiful bouquet.” You folded your arms, “Excuse me.” You sidestepped the King, making a beeline for the skeleton whose back was turned. Writing something, it looked like. “ _Hey_.”

Sans would’ve jumped out of his skin if he was unlucky enough to own any. “holy sh-” His eyelights shrunk as he stood up, folding his hands behind his back, “oh. hey, (y/n). chief.” He corrected himself as he looked over your uniform. Stars, he thought he got used to that scowl, but seeing it back in place was… unsettling. “whaddya doin’ here?” You crossed your arms tighter, looking down at the ankle bracelet. Sans chuckled, “heh. right. i hope no problems _stem_ from this.”

At his pun, your glare just slipped from being venomous into being unimpressed. “Oh. Good. It _is_ you.” You put your hand on your hip, shifting your weight to one leg. “Don’t do that again.”

“sorry, chief. the puns come with the package.”

Before you could respond, the sound of Frisk scampering over, standing protectively in front of Sans distracted you. They started signing frantically, ‘I’m sorry Miss Chief, this isn’t Sans’ fault at all. I only wanted to help him apologize to his lady friend, he didn’t want to go out. Please don’t arrest him. It was all my fault.’

You blinked at the child, “…I’m not going to arrest him.” Lady friend? _What_ lady friend? You’ve been visiting nearly every day and there was never once any hint or evidence of Sans having a lady friend. Well, you supposed there was Toriel, but Toriel and Asgore seemed like a better match to you. Alphys and Undyne, but you recalled Papyrus saying they were mates or something.

‘I’m really sor-’ Their hands froze abruptly, ‘You aren’t?’

You shook your head, “…I just got alerted when his monitor went off.” You ran a hand through your hair, observing the flower shop. For being a king with other duties to attend, this place had an abundance of flowers. You’d buy some for your own house if you had time to look after some. You turned your attention back to Sans, “I told you to text me. I wouldn’t have come here if you just said you were going somewhere.”

“sorry ‘bout that.” He rubbed his neck, moving from behind Frisk, “but ‘s kinda good you’re here anyway. mighta lost my nerve if i waited.”

“…What are you talking about?”

Sans brought the card from behind his back, handing it off to you unceremoniously. “ ‘s for you.” He grabbed the bouquet waiting on Asgore’s table with his magic and brought it to his hands.

Frisk’s eyes widened. _They miscalculated! **Severely** miscalculated!!_ They just looked between you and Sans, hands frozen as they searched for the words. What? When? _Why??_

Unaware of Frisk’s inner turmoil, you stared blankly at the card, nicely decorated with flowers on the front, beautiful text reading ‘ _I want to tell you’_ before opening it up to a large, messily scrawled,

‘ _sorry. -sans’_

You stared at the page, feeling your face immediately heat up, and absolutely burn when Sans pushed the flowers into your hands, and despite how much you wanted to ignore it, how warm his fingers were when they grazed yours. “What are you—? I told you that you didn’t- I mean, y-you didn’t have to buy me—” That was literally the laziest apology card you’d ever received, why were you stuttering like this? ‘ _You’re a grown woman, (Y/n)- get a grip!_ ’ No amount of inner chiding or scolding made you any less embarrassed.

Sans felt himself chuckle watching you try to talk. And there was that shade of red he liked again. Hardened chief to school girl, in less than a minute. What a wonder. “oh. ‘n sorry about draggin’ you from work i guess. i’ll just text ya next time.”

You pressed your hand to her cheek, in a way you hoped was subtle. You cleared your throat, “It’s fine. Just don’t disappear like that again. Monster abductions are rising.” Your cheeks still hurt, but you figured sticking around here was only bound to make it worse. “I’m going back to the station.” You turned on your heel and left the shop, bouquet and card in hand.

Frisk watched you go before turning to Sans, who was scratching the back of his skull with his usual(?) grin set in place, ‘… _Miss Chief?_ ’ They’d sworn he was hitting on Toriel! Maybe they just didn’t get adults as well as they thought they did.

Sans’s eyelights didn’t move until the door stopped swinging, “don’t even thinka ‘bout it, kiddo.”

Frisk looked at Sans’s chest, noting a faint glow emanating there. Oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *For the record, Purple Hyacinths mean “I’m sorry,”, Blue Hydrangeas mean a variety of things, but the most fitting ones were “heartfelt and honest emotions, developing a deeper understanding between two people, and acting without thinking of the emotions of another”, and the Gladiolus Flower means “strength of character”. Fun fact; the Gladiolus is Chief’s favorite.
> 
> Accidental!Wingman-Frisk. Oh boy. Frisk's previous ship has been shot down. But with it a new one has sailed. Once Alphys learns of this a fanclub may be formed.


	14. And Forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which both you and Sans hear things you don't particularly wish to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, an answer to that thing that happened 50 pages ago! RAISE YOUR HAND IF YOU GUESSED SOULMATES!

Walking into the station with a bouquet of flowers that you didn’t leave with was probably one of the more nerve wracking things you’d done. Sure, you could have left them in the car, but… they’d wilt faster. You may’ve been hesitant to receive them, but Asgore _did_ work hard to put them together and…. well… and Sans also put the thought into getting them for you. You were hesitant, not _inconsiderate_.  When you finally got into your office, you set the flowers on the corner of your desk, slipping the card underneath them. You’d just take it home later. You returned to your formal letters, focused until the sound of her door swinging open made you freeze.

 “Huh,” Ron’s voice made your fist clench, “You leave ready for war, and you come back with flowers?” He stepped in, running his fingers over the petals, “Never a dull day with you, is it?”

“Laugh it up, Marks.” You mumbled, eyes tracking his hands, ready to bat him away if he had so much as nudged the vase. “Honestly, _I_ didn’t even expect to come back with them…” You sat up straighter, hoping it’d quell your urge to fidget, “Everyone was, um…” You cleared your throat, looking away from his curious gaze, “…staring. When I came in.” Being watched wasn’t something new to you. When you entered any room ( _especially_ at the station), conversations would stop and eyes would turn. Nothing new. But _usually_ it was out of respect, but this time? There were whispers, and you knew damn well why.

“…Are you… blushing, (Y/n)?” Ron asked, forcibly holding in his snickers. “It’s normal for everyone to be curious- you’re the _Chief_.” You knew he had a point, but it didn’t make you any less anxious. Hell, _you_ used to be the same way with the previous chief, but now that you were in the same position…?

“I don’t like this.” You stated bluntly, hiding your face in her palms. It wasn’t like this was high school or something- what should it matter if someone gave you flowers? It shouldn’t have even been of note, right? _Right?_  “Even _you_ came in here.”

“Well, I’m your friend,” Ron leaned against the desk, “I probably would’ve come in here, anyway. But really, where’d you even get these?” You muttered the answer reluctantly into your hands, hoping you wouldn’t have to repeat yourself. Ron was probably the _worst_ person to be telling this to, in fact. “Can’t hear you, Chief.”

“They were an apology.” You finally managed once you were sure you weren’t blushing anymore. Why was this affecting you so much?

 “Great, but from _who_? I mean, it’s a pretty nice arrangement.” He observed the flowers before picking up vase, searching for some sort of label. With it, though, the card you’d tucked underneath went fluttering to the ground. “Oh, sorry.” Ron bent to pick it up, opening it once he’d retrieved it from the floor. “…You’ve _got_ to be fucking with me right now.”

…You were going to die. Right here. In your office chair. Right now. Cause of death; **extreme mortification**. “ _Ron. **Drop it.**_ ” It didn’t matter how much you sharpened your tone or snarled at him. The damage was done. Ron was leaning against the desk, trying his best not to die from suffocation. And failing.

“I can’t believe this.” He snorted, sitting up to pull his phone out, ready to snap a picture of the bouquet, “Miranda is going to flip out when she sees this.” He clutched his stomach, doing his best to hold his phone steady, “She freaking _called it_.”

You genuinely couldn’t tell if you were more angry or embarrassed. “W-what, **_no_**! It wasn’t even— it was just- it was an _apology_!” You pushed your hair back, hoping the motion would calm you enough to explain like a rational adult. ‘I told him about my brother. He felt bad.’ Two sentences. Why wasn’t it that easy? “And what do you mean ‘ _called it’_? I’m doing my _job._ ”

Ron had finally settled himself so that he was only chuckling at your expense instead of flat out laughing. “She told me this morning that you two were going to have a thing. She’s _right_.” He folded his arms, “Even when I think about it… I mean, you _did_ remove me from his house arrest, you brought him bowling, he’s giving you flowers… come on, (Y/n).”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, letting yourself breathe before you even tried to tackle responding to that. “First of all, you know _exactly_ why I removed you. It had _nothing_ to do with Sans. Second, I was just being nice. I was already there when you called. Third, it’s an _apology_ bouquet. You _saw_ the letter. There is no _thing._ There will be no _thing._ ” You had begrudgingly accepted Miranda putting such a thought out there- after all, she had no idea about you and Sans’s relations aside from what little Ron probably told her. But Ron _himself_? You were insulted that he’d even _try_ to subscribe to that kind of logic.

Ron sighed, “Yeah, I guess so.” He stuck his phone back into his pocket, “It was fun to see you get riled up about it, though.”

“What kind of friend _are_ you?” You huffed, forcing your attention back to the screen.

Ron chuckled, watching you continue to avidly type away. As much as he teased, he had noticed you had been happier lately and the only thing that changed since Casey’s passing was that Papyrus and Sans had entered your life. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to put two and two together. Whatever you and Sans had spoken about helped you, and as long as you were getting better, he couldn’t complain. “The best kind.”

You paused, glancing up at him. “…Yeah. You are.” You sighed; as much as you hated to admit it, you had been… unusually emotional lately, and the people closest to you took the brunt of it. Or… person, in this case. “…And thanks for that. I’m sorry for snapping at you, by the way.” You folded your arms, leaning against your desk, “I know what you were trying to do. So… thanks for being patient with me through all of this.”

Ron stiffened, taken aback by the sudden shift in tone. “Oh- I…” He rubbed his neck, “I’m sorry, too. For pushing it. I should’ve thought about how you felt before accusing you like that.” He shuffled, “Damn, (Y/n). Didn’t have to get all sappy on me. I wasn’t ready…”

You smiled before glancing down at your phone, “Keeps you sharp, Deputy. Now get back to work, you’ve spent enough time in here.”

 

Sans and Frisk had made their way back to his apartment, and the entire time Sans felt Frisk’s barrage of questions just waiting to strike him. So, he made it a point to immediately head to the kitchen instead of answering them. “you hungry, kid?” He rummaged through the pantry, looking for anything to delay the conversation he knew he was about to have.

A hand pulling his sleeve forced him to turn around. ‘Sans! You didn’t say it was _Miss Chief_! I thought you two didn’t like each other!’

“where’d you get that idea?” They were completely right, but they shouldn’t have _known_ that. Both you and Sans always acted… civil when Frisk was around. In fact, he wasn’t entirely sure where he stood with you now; he didn’t _hate_ you. He didn’t even dislike you. Did he look forward to your visits every day? Maybe it was because he hadn’t really been talking to anyone else. That buzz he got in his soul, when you turned red or when you bit your lip, trying not to smile at some of his jokes… he… He subconsciously zipped up his jacket.

He didn’t _dislike_ you. He’ll just leave it at that.

‘What do you mean _where_? You two did nothing but glare at each other during Papyrus’s going away party.’ Frisk paused, seeming to debate their next question, ‘Why did you apologize to her?’

Sans sighed, “askin’ the hard questions, aren’tcha?” He meandered over to the table, and watched as Frisk joined him, obviously not going to drop the subject. He tapped his phalanges against the table, considering his words. “let’s just say i was pretty shitty to ‘er.” Hell, that was really the only way he could explain without going into explicit detail. And he… really didn’t want to do that. “and even after what i did, after what she went through, she still managed to be kind to paps in the end.” Frisk watched Sans ramble. It was weird to see him so…? It wasn’t _sad_. It was just thoughtful. Oddly calm. They’d seen that look before, but… “she deserved an apology.”

Frisk got the sense that there was something bigger about this, but then again, wasn’t there always with Sans? Maybe… it’d be better not to pry right now. ‘I think she liked them! It’s not what I would’ve suggested if I would’ve known who it was for but…’

Sans scratched the back of his skull. That wasn’t really reassuring. “who’dya think i was talking about?”

Frisk flushed, hesitating for a minute. ‘Well… I thought they were for Mom.’ Sans’s chuckles made them feel more embarrassed. ‘I thought- I thought you were flirting with _her_! I mean, she’s so happy around you, and you seem really comfortable with her so-’

“kid, tori’s my _friend._ if i wanted to apologize to ‘er, i already know exactly how to-” He nearly choked once he realized what they just said, “i wasn’t flirting with _(y/n)_ either.” Apology=flirting, _how?_ Frisk had good intentions but got overzealous incredibly fast.

Frisk frowned at their skeleton friend. Okay. They might’ve overestimated Sans’s relationship with Toriel a little bit, but not here. No way. His SOUL was glowing. There had to be something _there_ , even if he denied it. ‘You don’t even like Miss Chief a _little_?’

“nope.”

Frisk pointed accusingly at his chest, ‘Why was your SOUL glowing, then? It only started glowing once you spoke with her.’ Sans shrugged. Damn. Got him there. He wished he knew, too. ‘What if you’re soulmates?’

“who told you ‘bout soulmates, kid? ‘sides, those are incredibly rare. if she was my soulmate, half of this woulda never happened.” Even though he really didn’t want to be talking about this (with Frisk, of all people), it did help to bounce ideas off them. He’d been wondering about it since the first time it happened. “we _both_ woulda known immediately.”

Frisk sighed before making their decision, ‘I’m calling Mom then.’

“uh, wait-” Frisk stood up, and for some reason, Sans just… let them. He could’ve just taken the phone, but… he wanted to know what was going on, too. He watched as his friend strolled from the room and their soft voice could be heard asking Toriel to come to the apartment as soon as possible. After they were done with the call, Sans joined them in the living room, sitting on the couch and flipping idly through the tv channels.

They sat together in the quiet until Sans’s cellphone vibrated. He opened the message and found himself shocked to read, ‘ _Thank you. See you later.’_ Stars. It was just as bare bones as the apology he’d given _you_ yet, he still found himself grinning.

‘Told you she liked them!’

It didn’t take long for Toriel to join them, and she settled herself on the couch between the two like it was home. It might as well have been, with how much time they all spent together. After getting Tori set with some tea (the last bag. He’d have to remember to buy more before Papyrus came home…), she looked down at her skelepun friend with a soft smile. “Frisk says you have met your soulmate- is that true?”

Sans chuckled shaking his head. “nah. hate to break it to ya, tori, but (y/n) ain’t my soulmate. but some weird things have been happening.”

The large goat woman tilted her head, “(Y/n)—? Oh! My goodness, you mean Miss Chief, do you not?” She took a sip from the mug, “I would not have thought she would cause any sort of reaction… her soul was very… guarded.” She remembered how cold you were when you met. What an interesting turn for Sans- who was equally as guarded- to respond to you.  “What peculiar things have you experienced?”

While he should’ve expected to be asked that question, he couldn’t help but feel like he was put on the spot. “oh. well, it was uh- just… a lotta glowing? me, i mean.”

Toriel nodded in that understanding, motherly way of hers. “I need more information to help you, Sans. What happened when you started glowing?”

Sans thought back to those times and sweated slightly. He… really did not want to tell them this. “…well, it happened a couple’a times, but…” He pulled at his hood, shrinking down into it, “the first time, we were arguing. bad. but the time after, it was… really calm. we were talkin’ about papyrus. ‘nd how she was responsible for all of ebott.” He looked up, seeing Frisk giving him an expectant look, “ ‘nd this last time, i uh… just gave ‘er flowers.”

Toriel’s silence was not comforting.

“And how did you feel during those times? What were you thinking about?”

What kind of question—? Were they trying to figure out what was up with his soul or giving him a therapy session? But he knew Toriel wouldn’t be asking this for no reason. “i-i dunno, the situation, i guess?”

The small, contemplative ‘hmm’ wasn’t much better. “…Has that been all?”

“…no.” Sans sighed, “well, just yesterday she… she saw my dream. i dunno how, but…” That was probably what he should’ve lead with, now that he thought about it. When he looked up at her, Toriel’s ruby eyes seemed to glow with recognition, then she smiled.

“My friend, I believe I know what is happening.” She set down her cup on the table, “I am very shocked, in fact… What you are experiencing is known as a “ **SYNC** ”.”

“…a what?” Sans pulled at his sleeves, searching through his memory banks for any such of a word. Nope. Never heard it.

“I was not entirely sure, but with the last piece of information you gave me, it would be the most fitting. A SYNC occurs when two separate souls resonate. Think of it this way; all souls thrum on a certain wavelength, but when they SYNC… for brief moments, they intertwine. Lose themselves. The boundaries of the soul are blurred, and for those few moments, there is nothing to differentiate one from the other.”

Sans clutched at his jacket. Maybe he was better off not knowing. “w-what?” His soul… _synchronizing_ with yours? “i-i mean, ‘s probably not _that._ c’mon, tori. get real.”

“You said you shared your dream, did you not? That is a very common trait.” She drummed her fingers on her thigh, “Long ago, I used to experience such a thing. There is truly nothing like it.”

“but, wouldn’t _she_ have said something? _felt_ something—?”

“She did, when she experienced your dream, Sans.” Toriel’s calm only made Sans panic more. How could she be so okay? He wasn’t okay. Nothing about this was okay.

“but _before-”_

Toriel laughed good-naturedly at him, “We monsters are far more in tune with our souls. Essentially, your soul glowing was reaching for hers. When you shared your dream, her soul accepted yours in that moment.”

 He was so confused. SYNCs? Acceptance? Dreams? He needed a drink.

‘So, is it a romantic thing?’ Frisk finally piped in, causing both monsters to look over at the child.

“Not necessarily.” Toriel hummed, “Though it was, in my experience. It is incredibly intimate.” She tapped her chin in thought, “Besides intentionally bonding souls, it is probably one of the most intimate experiences anyone could have.”

Sans forced himself to tune out. He was not prepared for this. Not today. How would he ever look at you again knowing his soul resonated with yours, without either of you knowing it? Maybe he just wouldn’t tell you. Ever. As long as that dream thing never occurred again, there’d be no reason to talk about it, right? Right. He’d just… _stop_ SYNCing with you. Somehow.

‘How come people don’t SYNC all the time?’ Frisk asked.

“There are many factors. Soul compatibility, emotional state, life experiences. The soul is incredibly complicated.” Toriel glanced over at Sans, patting his skull comfortingly. “It is not a bad thing, Sans. Nothing is wrong with having soul compatibility with someone. You should relish it. It is incredibly rare; even if it is not romantic, you still should take the chance to befriend Miss Chief. You may learn something from each other.”

Sans looked up at her, his practiced grin set in place. “thanks, tori.”

He honestly couldn’t tell if Toriel recognized that he was panicking or if she just didn’t want Frisk to ask any more questions, but she stood up, holding Frisk’s hand to pull them along with her. “Come now, my child. We _both_ must prepare for school tomorrow.”

‘Mom, it’s only 4.’ Frisk argued, digging their heels into the carpet, ‘Besides, Miss Chief is coming later, don’t you want to tell her, too?’

Toriel gave Frisk a pointed look. “That is for Sans and Miss Chief to discuss privately. And I know you have not yet finished your homework. Let us return home.” Frisk sighed, deflating slightly as Toriel tugged them toward the door. They’d just have to come back later to find out what happened.

 

Four hours Sans had to himself before that usual knock at his door startled him out of his stupor. He’d just been… sitting. Thinking. Debating himself on whether to tell what he knew or just keep it for himself. How would he even explain? When he finally opened the door, he had to lean against the door frame to disguise his shaking. “heya, chief.” He scanned you, avoiding your eyes by committing the look of your uniform to his memory. Dark blue, easy on the eyes. What did those stripes on your sleeve mean? How long had that star on your collar been there for? Did that golden badge on your chest always glimmer like that? “feels like i haven’t seen ya all _dai_ sy.”

 Your sigh was one of utter defeat, “Couldn’t even let me greet you before you started assaulting me with your jokes.” You glanced him over, noting the tension in his shoulders, the way he was hiding his hands in his pockets. He was trying to look as laidback as usual, but something was bothering him, and you picked up on it immediately. Even his grin was tighter than that easy going smile you’d gotten so used to seeing lately. It was back to the way it had been prior to… all this. And that made you uncomfortable.

“well, y’know me- no beating around the bush. i can be pretty _impatiens_ about my jokes.” He knew he’d have to move eventually, either to let you in or to close the door, but either way, he knew you’d notice him shaking- if you didn’t _see_ it, you’d hear his bones rattling, for sure. His eyelights subconsciously locked onto your chest. Did your soul glow like his did when you SYNCed? Were you even aware of it? He envied humans, to some degree. They could ignore their souls, since it was buried so deeply inside of them, but for monsters? There was no ignoring something like that.

“It just charms me how you’re using every other flower than the ones you actually gave me.” You folded your arms, hoping the subtle movement would make him quit staring at your chest. You weren’t sure _what_ exactly he was looking at, but you were going to give him the benefit of doubt and assume he wasn’t intentionally being rude.

“heh, thought you’d enjoy that.” Shit. He talked himself into a corner. His mind scrambled and he haphazardly threw out the first thing he thought of, “hear about the meteor shower tonight?”

Well, that hadn’t been what you were expecting him to say next. Another pun, maybe, but you’d roll with it for now. He was obviously uncomfortable, and you had interrogated enough people to know that you weren’t getting any answers out of him until he calmed down a bit. What even had him so agitated, anyway? He was completely fine when you saw him earlier, “No, but it doesn’t surprise me that _you_ did.”

His eyelights widened, the large white dots threatening to fill his sockets entirely. Damn it. He just _had_ to go with astronomy, didn’t he? If he didn’t keep talking, you’d call him out. “heh. i guess i shouldn’ta expected you to _comet_ on it. woulda suggested we go check ‘em out, but seems like we had to _planet_ first. heheh. ‘sides, you even ‘ _nova_ place we could see ‘em?”

You set your hand on your hip. Was… was this what he was nervous about? Asking to go see the stars? “There’s actually a spot up the mountain about two hours away, if you want to go.” It’d make sense for him to be nervous about asking you since he couldn’t drive himself and he didn’t seem to be the type to willingly take a bus, especially with the bracelet… “It’s not _completely_ free of light pollution, but it’s better than being in the center of the city.” It wasn’t like you had anything pressing to do at home, anyway.

“heh, i-” Sans paused, taking a second to actually register that what you said _wasn’t_ an insult about his puns. “wha- _wait—”_ Hell, even if he was bullshitting his way through this, you were _offering_ to take him to actually go see the meteor shower. He’d just planned to look at it on his roof and call it a day, but… without light pollution? He suddenly forgot what he was even nervous about. “ya mean it?”

“…Sure, why not?” You sighed, sending a backward glance toward your car. “I could think of worse ways to spend the night. Grab what you need.” The skeleton stared at you, his eyelights blinking into those blue stars you were starting to enjoy seeing. When he smiled like that, all your nerves just sort of faded away. You hid your smile behind your hand, “Hurry it up. I’ll be in the car.”

 

The drive there was peaceful, or at least, as peaceful as it _could_ be when Sans had taken to rambling about the Geminid meteor shower, how it’s caused by 3200 Phaethon’s debris, how excited he was to see even three meteors in the midst of moving into their new apartment the previous year, and the subtle differences between comets and rock comets. With puns sprinkled through periodically, of course. By the time you put the car in park, you knew more about meteors than your brief “Introduction to Astronomy” class had ever taught you. It was hard to be annoyed at him when he rambled on so passionately, though. You couldn’t help but wonder if that was a monster thing or just a skeleton thing.

Sans followed you out of the car, excitedly opening the trunk to take out his telescope, books he’d tossed in, and his bottles of ketchup he’d brought along for good measure. You loitered over his shoulder, watching him carefully lift everything out. It seemed almost uncharacteristic how cautious he was being with that telescope. It was clearly old, an archaic brass model, with innumerable scratches and dings along the side, and the tripod’s legs had definitely seen better days, but he handled it like it was his only worldly possession. It… made you kind of sad, and you weren’t sure why. You reached down to gather the books, “I’m surprised you don’t have a case for it.”

Startled out of his reverie, Sans looked down at telescope, “oh. yeah. i _woulda_ but…” He chuckled, scratching the back of his skull, “it didn’t come with one.” He traced his phalanges over the side, his smile faltering every time his fingertips dipped into one of the grooves. “this thing’s probably older ‘n me…” You watched his hands, tracking the deliberate motion. How… did he feel? Could he? Was the sensation of touch just something he lacked, or could he actually…? “i found it in the dump _long_ before the barrier broke. someone from the surface musta dropped it for it to end up underground.”

You tightened your grip on the books. Now you felt guilty for even bringing it up. He probably _wanted_ a case for it, given his fascination with the stars. Of course he’d handle his only connection with them like it was precious. It probably _was_ precious to him.  “Oh. I- I just meant- I didn’t realize that…” You sighed, “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to say that you—”

He chuckled, “hey, relax, chief. i know you weren’t trying to _star_ t a fight.”

You couldn’t hide your smile this time, so instead you just turned your head. “You were saving that one, weren’t you?”

He winked at you, “the best always keep a few more up their sleeve.”

It took a few minutes for Sans to set up his telescope in the way he wanted, and you just sat down in the grass, neck craned upward to stare at the stars. It wasn’t something you did often; in fact, you spent so much time looking down it felt sort of… off to be looking upward this way. But it wasn’t bad. As your eyes got adjusted, more and more stars appeared to dot the sky. They were beautiful; maybe you needed to take more time to appreciate them. You glanced at Sans, who was looking through his telescope.

“What was it like seeing the sky for the first time?”

Sans continued looking through the telescope, but the way he paused, his body froze up for just a second, let you know that he was listening. “huh. no one’s ever asked me that.” He stood up straight, pulling at his jacket absently. “guess it was pretty cool.”

You folded your arms. What a lazy answer. But maybe you shouldn’t have expected much else from him. “…Just cool?”

“…‘n a little scary, too.” He added with a shrug, “ ‘m sure the phrase ‘sky’s the limit’ don’t mean much to _you_ , but… realizing that the ‘sky’ ain’t a wall… it ain’t something that people walk on above you, and that it really is _endless_ … well.” He sat down beside you, laying back in the grass, “…it’s _somethin’_ , for sure.”

You stared at him. That… was actually… really fitting. You searched his face—for what, you were pretty sure you wouldn’t know until you found it there. “Did you ever think you’d see it?”

When his eyelights fell onto yours, your breath caught and you quickly averted your gaze. “askin’ a lotta questions tonight aren’tcha?”

“…You can ask me questions too, if you want.” You offered, bringing your knee to your chest.

Sans paused. He didn’t have any pressing questions about humanity that he couldn’t ask Frisk, but… it was nice to have the option, he guessed. “well, i always hoped to see it. didn’t think we’d get this far, though.” He returned his gaze to the sky, and nearly shot up when there was a white streak in the corner of his vision. He reached out, squeezing your shoulder, “there was one- didja see it?”

You stared at his hand, and weren’t sure if you needed to force yourself to relax or to shrink away. He shouldn’t be touching you. The fact that yuo couldn’t decide what to do just made you freeze. “I- yep. Saw it.”

His laugh was so uninhibited, so energetic that you genuinely weren’t sure what to do with yourself. His voice always had this quality about it, this way that it just… lingered in you a little longer than other noises, but usually, it was negative. A nuisance. Something nagging and frustrating, but this time it was… not. You forced yourself to stare back up at the sky, searching the darkness for the illusive streaks.

 You didn’t think it was possible for someone to be so thrilled every time a shooting star passed by, but Sans’s enthusiasm showed no signs of waning. ~~And honestly… you didn’t want it to. Something had to keep you warm while the temperature was dropping. And the sound of his laughter was the only thing doing it.~~

 

Sans only took note of the time once the thick clouds began obstructing his view of the sky. “huh, ‘s one already…” He stuck his phone back into his pocket- as much as he wanted to stay and wait out the clouds, it looked like they were there to stay. “(y/n)?” He sat up, noting you were curled up with your cheek leaned against your knee. He was the king of sleeping in strange positions but that had to be uncomfortable. “hey, chief,” He pressed his hand to your back and immediately pulled it back when he felt you shake.

Why were you—?

He looked up at the sky, the fluffy white clouds immediately giving him his answer. It’s winter. Right. Humans shiver. He hadn’t even noticed the cold. “hey, c’mon…” He mumbled, shaking you a little harder. He was relieved when you finally stirred (why?), and chuckled at your bleary eyes. “ready to head back?”

You wiped your eyes with your sleeve. “…Is… is it snowing?” You murmured, holding out your palm to catch some of the snowflakes. How long had yo been asleep for? You didn’t even remember _falling_ asleep.

“just started a few minutes ago.” He stood up, offering you his hand. It took him a moment to mask his surprise when you took his hand without hesitation. Your hand was just as soft as it had been when you held him down but…he didn’t remember your skin being that cold before. He didn’t like the fact that he had to make a point of _telling_ himself to let go.

Your daze didn’t last for long. “We should probably hurry and pack up.” You shrugged your uniform coat up slightly. You didn’t make a point of doing impulsive things like this anymore and this was why. You sighed, helping the skeleton place everything back into your car. You felt much happier once the heater was up and blaring. Sans leaned against the door, staring out the window, and at his longing look you tilted your head. “Wasn’t what you were hoping for?”

“wha- _no_ , no, it was great.” He scratched the back of his skull. “just… i wasn’t expectin’ this, is all.”

You hoped that the snow wasn’t going to stick… but if this was going to be Ebott’s first snow storm of the year. Yeah, you probably weren’t going to be that lucky… “What were you expecting?” You pulled your phone from your pocket, ensuring it was hooked onto the charger. Better to be safe than sorry.

“well,” Sans watched as the snow flurries start to get denser. It almost reminded him of Snowdin. “didn’t think you’d drive all the way out here for me, f’starters.” Your silence made him shuffle in his seat and only when he glanced over did he notice the slight red tint to your cheeks.

“I guess that makes both of us, then.” You mumbled after a moment, “…I only did it because you looked uncomfortable earlier.”

“what?” He thought back to before you both left- why would he have been…? Oh. _Oh right._ “o-oh, that? it was nothin’.” He clutched his jacket, “heh, i’m surprised ya even noticed.”

You gave him a skeptical glance. “Of course I noticed.” He was definitely more stoic than most people, but he wasn’t a complete enigma. Squeezing the steering wheel, you contemplated what you were going to say next. “…You don’t have to be nervous about telling me things.”

He held his breath. Oh, stars. He did. He _so_ did, when it had to do with your souls. It had to do with the most personal and secretive parts of _both_ of you. He had _every right_ to be nervous about that. But when your voice was so soft, so _heartfelt,_ he felt like a total _prick_ hiding it from you. “heh, don’t worry ‘bout it, (y/n). ‘s not serious.” The howl of the wind nearly drowned out his voice. “…gettin’ pretty bad, ain’t it?”

“First storm’s always the worst.” You mumbled. The roads would be especially icy if they hadn’t been salted, so once you got to the outskirts a visit to a hotel sounded appropriate. You were used to functioning on only a few hours of sleep, but you didn’t want to test your luck in icy conditions. The mountain was challenging you enough as it was. “Hotel sound okay to you?”

“i uh… sure. kay.” He was surprised you were even asking. You were driving, the choice was solely yours. It was… kinda nice though. That you thought to ask. “don’tcha have work tomorrow?”

You shrugged. “Ron’s there. I’ll let him know I’ll be in late.” It’s not like it was unusual for something to come up. It’s what he was there for in the first place. Besides, he’d probably relish the opportunity to make fun of you about this. You groaned thinking of the teasing to come. You were going to have to shove more paperwork onto him or else you’d never hear the end of it.

Sans forced himself to stay awake all the way down the mountain, and even when they pulled into the small hotel parking lot. If falling asleep meant he was going to possibly SYNC with you again he definitely was going to stay up until the second you were out of his sight. He loitered at your side, shaking off the snow from his hood as you stood at the front desk. “Did you want your own room?”

“don’t _you_ want your own room?”

You deadpanned. “I’ve _already_ slept with you.” You stiffened, realizing how that sounded, “No, wait, I mean- it’s not like we’re going to— do. Anything.” You hid your face in your palm, swearing at yourself for how that came out. You _couldn’t_ even _do_ anything. He was a skeleton- why did you even say that? Now it was going to look like you were _thinking_ of doing something. “I- I mean- unless you want to- I don’t know—build another fort or something.” Holy fuck, that was even worse. You hid both of your cheeks in your palms, hoping the blushing would subside before whatever worker came to ask what you wanted. Maybe you could just go out and bury yourself in the snow. Yeah. That’d be okay.

Sans watched you stumble all over your words and couldn’t stop himself from grinning. He patted your shoulder, “heeey, all you had t’say was you wanted to build another fort with me, no _bones_ about it.”

You groaned from beneath your palms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some answers to things I hinted at forever ago! Now, when will Sans actually tell Chief? Another 50 pages? Who knooows?


	15. Touch*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things get personal. And physical. Kind of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya everyone! Guess what?? I'm starting my own justice-admin courses. It's pretty exciting. I've always been interested in law. But, uh. Sorry this took so long. Like I said, subscribe because I'll do this periodically.  
> Oh, and uh. Be sure to read that end-notes, for feedback.
> 
> EDIT:  
> Now with 20% more sin! Which I'm, uh... pretty bad at writing. But it's there! Have fun you skele-sinners. <3

You hadn’t recovered by the time a young rabbit monster cleared her throat, drawing both of your attention toward the front desk. You exhaled, hoping the color in your cheeks would fade once you started talking. “I’m sorry about the wait! We weren’t expecting anyone to come this late- with the storm and all…” The rabbit’s nose twitched as she observed the both of you. It was rare to see humans and monsters together- especially at such an odd hour…

You straightened yourself out, hoping your posture would undermine the tint on your cheeks. “Yeah. Well. The storm’s why we’re here.” You internally cringed at the way the monster faltered, looking to Sans for help. Sans chuckled, the soft sound managing to both unnerve you and calm you at the same time. You felt him briefly squeeze your arm, just above your elbow before he leaned against the desk, sending the hotel clerk a casual grin.

“don’t hold it ‘gainst us- there was _snow_ way of tellin’ the storm was coming.” He grinned when the rabbit chuckled, obviously relaxing as he smoothed out the situation, “it’d be _ice_ of you to ho _tell_ us if there’s any rooms left for us to… _chill_ in.”

You had to forcibly restrain your hand at your side. The urge to smack your palm against your face repeatedly was overpowering you, _yet again_ , but, his awful puns seemed to be doing the trick, as the rabbit happily clicked on the computer and started booking Sans without complaint. As much as you hated to admit it, it was… pretty ~~attractive~~ ~~cute~~ interesting seeing how others just dropped their guard for him. Was it just his easy-going nature? That lazy, unassuming gaze? You smiled to yourself- it had to be the voice. Definitely the voice. If it echoed in other people the same way it lingered in you, then… it’d be easy to fall prey to it.

“ready to head up, chief?” Sans asked, waving the card key in front of you, eyebrow bones furrowing once his eyes locked onto yours. “uhh… somethin’ on my face or…?”

You averted your gaze, “What? No. I was just—” …What _were_ you doing? Because there was no other answer other than staring at him. You swallowed your words, “Thinking. I had a bag- my gym clothes- in my trunk. I’m going to get them to change out of. Into!” He barely got a word in before you turned and headed back outside, leaving Sans scratching his skull.

“…That human, she… doesn’t really seem to like monsters. Are you alright? Do you need help?” The rabbit said quietly, after the door shut.

A while ago, he probably would’ve agreed with that statement. But now, he could barely contain his surprise at the thought. Those little tells- covering your face, your blush, averting your gaze. Hell, even using that forceful tone- it wasn’t prejudice or hate, it was… just how you were. “nah. she’s good.” He absently noted the way his hand had drifted over his sternum. The rabbit didn’t seem convinced, but he couldn’t bring himself to care once you returned with a small bag draped over your shoulder. He couldn’t help but grin at the way you avoided his gaze all the way up to the room.

Flicking on the lights, you scanned the room. It wasn’t anything fancy. Single bed… you hadn’t really been expecting anything else, yet it was still somehow jarring. You closed the door behind him, watching as Sans kicked off his sneakers and shuffled toward the bed. “ _Don’t_.”

The skeleton paused, “huh?”  He hadn’t _done_ anything yet.

“Your jacket’s wet.” You shrugged off your uniform coat, hanging it on the hanger near the door, “…Take it off before you sit down.” You were surprised he hadn’t done it yet; the way the cold seeped through your jacket was maddening. A shower sounded completely appropriate about now. Usually, you’d wait until you got home, but… the shivers racking your body gave all the points to showering now. Sans’s gaze on you went unnoticed as you made a beeline toward the bathroom, bag in hand.

Sans faltered as you disappeared, pulling at the bottom of his jacket absently. It wasn’t like he was self-conscious of what he was. _How_ he was. He couldn’t change it, so why worry? Yet, he was still hesitating… He grumbled as he pulled the sleeves off, tossing it over the back of a chair. He sat down on the edge of the bed, flicking through the limited channels absently. None of them held his interest, but the background noise helped him from focusing on the sound of the shower. Every now and then, he could’ve sworn he heard soft humming emanating from behind that door, though. But the thought- the image- of (Y/N), the _chief,_ singing in the shower was enough to have him chuckling to himself. You were far too stoic and protective of your image to sing in the shower.

Right?

Despite his own doubts, he found himself lowering the tv’s volume in an attempt to catch the melody. Straining to listen past the steady pound of the water, he listened for the words, barely above a mumble, “ _…Just take my hand, and hold it tight. I will pro…”_ He gravitated toward the door, practically leaning his shoulder against the wall, listening as the words tailed off into a soft hum, “… _Don’t you cry. For one so small, you seem so strong. My arms will hold you…”_

Sans felt his grin slip away. There was that soft, maternal tone again. Pure affection and pain bundled up together, completely inseparable. He leaned his skull against the wall, “ _This bond between us can’t be broken; I will be here. Don’t you cry.”_ What was it about that tone that made his hands shake? Was it the reminder of the guilt at what he’d done? To Papyrus? To _you?_ Was it the memory of losing his own brother to someone who was supposed to be his friend? Was it reminding him of the past, of taking care of Papyrus when he was only a kid himself? Of the things he’d had to endure to ensure Papyrus would be safe in the Underground?

Enraptured in his thoughts, he’d tuned out the words- or maybe you’d been humming, he wasn’t sure, but when he’d started paying attention again, he was startled at the sudden strength in your voice. It was still quiet, but the words were much clearer, “ _When destiny calls you, you must be strong. I may not be with you, but you’ve got to hold on. They’ll see in time, I know. We’ll show them together._ ” He found himself staring at the door, ‘ _You’ll be in my heart’?_

“… _I’ll be with you. I’ll be there for you always…_ _Always and always…_ ”

Sans faltered. He… very suddenly got the feeling that he shouldn’t be listening. Even so, he found himself lingering at the door, listening to the humming until the water shut off, and even as you continued to hum as you shuffled around the bathroom. He stared at the door handle, and only when it rattled did he realize that he was definitely not in a position that he could joke his way out of. Instinct kicked in and he shortcutted himself right onto the bed, scrambling to pick the remote and act natural.

When the door swung open he kept his attention focused on the tv but took the opportunity before you could question anything, “took ya long enough, (y/n). you were in there for a s _hour_.”

Your sigh was exasperated but you meandered over to the bed, “How long did it take you to come up with that one?” You met his eyes once you sat on the edge of the bed, but couldn’t help but question why he was holding the remote backwards.

“heh, doesn’t take any time when you’re a natural like me.” He elbowed you, recoiling at the feel of your flesh on his bones. He glanced over at you, curiously, and couldn’t think of a single word when his eyes locked onto your bare arms.

It had never even occurred to him that he’d never seen you without sleeves before. Even the shirt you were wearing was tight. Formfitting. His eyelights trailed over your skin, noting the scars, each old, some obviously deep, but the one that caught his attention was a light-colored groove at the juncture between your chest and arm. It looked… painful. Uncomfortable.

“Okay. But like.” You crossed your arms, feeling the painful burn in your cheeks start to return, “Don’t make this weird.” You’d already felt uncomfortable wearing your gym clothes in front of him. The way he was staring was… not helping. At all. Honestly, you were accustomed to the way people stared when they saw the scars- why wouldn’t you be? They might as well have been a permanent edition to the uniform- and after the pain faded away, you never minded so much. But being… _studied_ this way? You just wanted to burrow up in the blankets and call it a night.

“oh, heh, no, sorry. it’s just…” Sans looked up, feeling his grin tighten a bit, “…never seen a human like you.” He knew about scars- Frisk had a few, but none like _yours_. “…the marks, i mean.” You only realized the tension in your shoulders when his boney fingers brushed the scar trailing up your ulna. “they hurt?”

He was… touching you again. “They- I—no. Not anymore.” You forced your gaze down to your arm, observing the porcelain fingers tracing your skin. His bones were smooth. Warm. Just like you recalled them being when he’d taken your hand at the bar. Examining even closer, you noticed there were no cracks, or imperfections that might be equivalent to scars, or wounds. How… would skeletons even be harmed? Can they bruise? How would they heal? There was just so much you didn’t understand.

“gives a whole new meaning to ‘earnin’ your stripes’, don’t it…” You watched silently as his hands slowly followed each of your scars up to your shoulder, until he paused at the circular scar, “mind tellin’ me the story behind this one?” His fingers dipped into the skin and he hurriedly pulled his hands back when you scooted away, putting your hand over the area he’d touched.

His eyelights widened as he met your eyes, and you internally groaned. Why did _you_ feel guilty? Those damn expressive eyelights… “Sorry. I’m just not used to people touching that one.” You paused, “…Or any of them.” You thought back to the last person to touch them- touch _you._ And other than your doctor, no one came to mind.

“didn’t mean to startle ya.” He raised his hands, “honest.” He sighed as he set his hands back down in his lap. Now that he thought about it, what even possessed him to think it was at _all_ okay to touch you? He just… did it without thinking. He tapped his femur in thought as you spoke.

You stared at him, before pushing your hair back. “It’s fine. I didn’t mean to move away like that. I was just surprised.” You craned your neck to look down at the old scar, “Bullet wound. First year in the task force.” You smiled joylessly, “Woman took her own children hostage in one of the apartments they were about to tear down.” You ran your finger around the edge of the scar tissue, “I thought she was bluffing. I’d spent so much time watching footage, watching _her_ , running traces. She shouldn’t have had a gun. Nothing suggested she could’ve even procured one in that frame she holed up there. I barged right in.” You laughed dryly at the memory- at how you were chastised after you’d been dismissed from the hospital. You’d made a lot of dumb mistakes, but that one was definitely up there. You’d gotten overconfident- thought nothing could hurt you since you got a new fancy title. “Lucky for me, she missed.”

Sans blinked. Maybe he’d never quite internalized what it meant to be on the force; he was never really interested himself and Papyrus hadn’t gone through all of his training yet, but hearing it firsthand? How could you laugh? It was a different situation when _he_ laughed. When the kid reset, he knew he couldn’t stop it. It didn’t matter what he did, so all he could do was smile and endure it- but… didn’t your life matter to you? “…what happened then?”

The small bit of mirth that was present in your eyes promptly disappeared. He felt his joints freeze up as you looked over him. There were fragments of pain just behind that cool gaze. Something passionate and screaming in agony, hidden behind apathy. You stared at the television, keeping your attention on anything but him.

“…(y/n)?”

At his prompting you looked down at his lap, now overly aware of the repetitive movement of his fingers. “Them. Then herself.” You looked over at him, “It wasn’t a game anymore, after that day.” You ran your fingers over your nails, “Ever had to live knowing you could’ve stopped something?”

His breath caught. Of course, he knew what that was like. Every waking moment, every alteration to reality, or dream, or _timeline_ , or whatever the hell those things were… He could have stopped every single one of them if he’d skewered the kid on sight. But he didn’t. He never did. He opened his mouth to respond- to agree- yet nothing came out. He clicked his jaw shut as he tried to think of anything to say in response to that look. Just a melancholy gaze begging him to quell the guilt.

_stars… ‘course i have. you saw paps. i coulda protected him…_

He watched you sit up straight, staring at him wide eyed, pressing your hand over your chest, almost protectively. You hadn’t… heard that, externally.  You knew you didn’t _hear_ him say that, but… his voice, that way it always echoed within you…? Usually when he spoke- even without opening his jaw- his eyelights would match what he was saying. But that-? Unsure if he’d actually said that, you opted to whisper, “…But that was a dream.”

The skeleton blinked, taken aback by your quiet response. He didn’t say that out loud. So… how could you have…? He stared at your hand, and nearly swore at himself once it clicked. Of course. The **SYNC**. If you could see his dreams, why wouldn’t you be able to hear the things he wanted to say to you? Toriel’s words ripped to the forefront of his mind, ‘ _her soul accepted yours in that moment.’_

Stars.

He already felt his magic burn. It became almost impossible to refrain from shuffling where he sat, “…it ain’t really…” How was he supposed to explain this? His experiences- were they even real? You’d probably just think he was being dramatic, but… “…can i tell ya somethin’, (y/n)?”

You dropped your hand back down to your lap, absently rubbing your thumb over your thigh. His grin had dropped completely, and you took notice of his serious demeanor. “I’m listening, Sans.”

You watched as the skeleton flipped the remote in his hand, turning the television down, “…’s gonna sound crazy but what you saw- with paps- ‘s not a dream.” At least, he didn’t _think_ it was. Hell, every time he woke back up in Snowdin and had to watch the kid… yeah, it didn’t feel like a dream, then. “…i’m pretty sure it was an alternate timeline.” The silence he got in response made him hesitate to look back at you. “frisk has this ability to **RESET**. they could do whatever they wanted in the underground, and just—just _put it back_. like nothin’ even happened.” He clutched at the comforter beneath him, “and sometimes watching them- they murdered someone… they murdered _everyone_.” He hated how his hands started to shake, “i watched them kill papyrus- _so many times- and **i didn’t do anything-** ”_

“…Hey.” You reached out, putting your hand on his shoulder gently, surprised when he relaxed, just slightly. You weren’t sure if what he was saying was provable, but… you could recognize the symptoms of PTSD (or at the very least, the beginnings of a panic attack) when they were presented to you. Even if it wasn’t real- it was real enough to him. And you didn’t think questioning him would help while he was so emotional. “Where are you right now?”

He felt his eyebrow bones furrow, “w…what? new snowdin inn…?” What did that…?

“Right. And where’s Papyrus?”

“…task force bootcamp.” He sighed, “why are you asking me that?”

You scanned him, noting the tremor in his hand hadn’t completely stopped, but it was less prominent. “Making sure you remember you’re not Underground.” You felt his gaze and sighed, “I don’t quite understand what you’ve gone through, but I know how traumatic losing someone can be.” You set your hand on top of his skull, “But your brother is okay. And…” Your tone lowered, “…and _you’re_ okay.”

His face just exploded with that cyan hue. For a moment, all that registered was your skin, how your touch seemed to cool his magic. He stared at you, eyelights bright and wide until he was finally able to shake himself out of it.

 “…kay, who’re you ‘nd what have you done with the real chief?”

You hurriedly drew your hand back, crossing your arms. “Look who’s asking. I haven’t heard a shitty pun in at least twenty minutes.”

“my puns are very _humerus.”_ Sans laid back on the bed, folding his hands over his ribs, “i just think you’re too _stern_ um to enjoy ‘em.” He chuckled at your annoyed moan, glancing at you when you laid beside him. He could barely remember what it was like when he laid next to you during that storm so long ago, but he was sure you wouldn’t have looked even half as relaxed as you did right now.

“Your jokes are _still_ garbage.” You reached up, dragging a pillow down, and tucking it behind your head.

“nah, you just don’t have a funny bone.”

“No, _you_ don’t have a funny bone.” You lifted your arm, tracing the bottom of your elbow, “Since the ‘funny bone’ is actually the ulnar _nerve_.”

He stared at you, appalled. “did you just-”

“Yes.”  For a second, he swore he saw you smirk. And that light in your eyes… stars. Every part of his being was begging him to—to do something. _Anything_. “But don’t be mad, Sans. I can’t get on something you don’t have, after all.”

He opened his mouth to respond but before he could think of anything, you turned your back, reaching out and shutting off the bedside lamp. He watched you lay back down, and he just stared at your back, searching for a retort he didn’t have. Only when he laid down and closed his eyes did he realize what you’d done. “…you made a fucking pun.”

“ _Get real_.”

He knew what he heard. ~~And he liked you even more for it.~~   ~~~~

 

You murmured in your sleep, reluctantly opening an eye to glance at the skeleton you were clutching to your chest. Maybe if you were more awake, or if the room was brighter, you’d be inclined to panic, but you felt… comforted by his heat. Now that you thought about it, everything felt a little hazy right now. Foggy. Sluggish. Even so, you couldn’t bring yourself to mind. Feeling him there felt… nice. You closed your eyes, taking note of the curve of his spine through his thin shirt against your stomach. Skeletons were weird. You unclasped your hands, clutching his shirt absently. The lack of skin and muscles underneath was slightly jarring. You lazily walked your fingers over the curve of his ribs, only barely registering how he shifted against you, how his breath hitched. How he paused. Waiting.

You hooked your finger around his rib, sliding it forward toward his sternum, only pausing when he let out a quivering sigh. You lightly pressed against the inside of his sternum, and in your sleepy state, you wondered how it was possible for a skeleton to hold his breath without lungs. By now, you should’ve stopped questioning things like that. But the sound of his uneven, shaky breaths, they weren’t… unpleasant. Far from unpleasant. You’d nearly fallen back asleep, nuzzling against his shoulder, using your finger to work that path on his rib, from his sternum to his side, and back again.

“ _fuck…”_ The hissed whisper was enough to get you to open your eyes, noticing that familiar blue glow casting out onto the wall. He really was like a beacon. “the _fuck_ are you doing, (y/n)…” he murmured, mostly to himself, squirming slightly in your grasp.

He swore he was going to rip this bed apart if you kept touching him like that. Between your light, lazy touches, the friction of his shirt against his ribs, and how the rest of him was aching to be touched. Stars, he couldn’t take this. How could you even do this asleep? He looked down at your hand, hesitantly putting his hand on top of yours.

He _should_ stop.

You were asleep, probably not even aware of what you were doing to him. With how reluctant you were about everything else, you’d be mortified if you woke up to find he was… _you were_ …

But… your hand working his rib like that, it was just what he wanted to feel. A solution to that inescapable heat you _constantly_ made him feel. It was never the same to do it himself, and your hands were so _soft_ and _warm_ and… fuck. He gripped your hand in his, slowly pulling his shirt up, wrapping your fingers around his ribs, awkwardly moving it the way you had on your own. But even just the feel of your hands on his bare bones was enough to have him sighing in relief. “fuckin’ stars, _yes_ …”

You shifted, leaning your head over his shoulder. “You’re getting off to this.” You mumbled against his cheekbone, squeezing his rib until he spluttered.

“ _chief!_ no- i just- you already were- i mean-” Holy shit. Holy shit, holy _fuck._ He wasn’t sure if he should be more alarmed by your calm tone, or the fact that you hadn’t stopped stroking his ribs. He was just going to go ahead and say both, to be safe. He hurriedly sat up, ready to go call Frisk and beg them to reset, but you caught him by the shoulder and pinned him down.

“Relax.” You mumbled, leaning over him, “I’ve been awake.” You couldn’t help but admire how that glow seemed to light the entire room. He protested for a moment until your words registered.

“damn. you’re fucked up.” He mumbled, relaxing into the pillows. “so… you gonna keep goin’ or…?” You laughed, and he felt his body heat up at the soft sound. He was already turned on- that sort of shit was not helping. But almost immediately, your hands were gripping his ribs again, and he had to force himself not to writhe under your ministrations. “i- hahh… i’m not usually so… _sans_ itive…”

“I’d enjoy this a hundred times more if you _didn’t_ make any puns.” Your voice was deadpan, but he didn’t miss that small smile pulling at your lips. Stars. Those lips. He’d never really had much interest in kissing- due to the lack of lips and all- but what he wouldn’t give to pull you down. Lick your lips, bite them. Bruise them. Anything to hear you say his name.

“heh, sorry, (y/n). no can do…” he huffed when you squeezed his ribs, “sh-shit—” he reached down, placing one of your hands on his spine, and shivered at the contact. He almost wanted to chuckle at your confused look, but you raked your nails down his vertebrae before he could even start to say anything. Damn. Either you were amazing at reading cues or he was dreaming right now. He honestly couldn’t tell which he’d prefer. “ho-hold on, there.” He was in paradise, with the way you touched him, and it was almost agonizing to stop you, but…

“If you’re stopping me to say another joke, it’s not necessary.” You said with a small grin. You watched curiously as he sat up, running his hands up your sides. He chuckled at the way you paused, the words dying on your lips as you watched his hands trail your body. If only the room was brighter- then he’d be able to admire that vibrant blush of yours. But he was just as contented with that slight raise in pitch of your voice, when you finally murmured, “What are you doing?”

His hands crept up your sides, and he paused when he reached your chest, gently squeezing them. Soft. Like the rest of you. “give the act a b _reast_ , (y/n). ‘s not like you’re at work. just us here.” He laughed at the scowl that crossed your face, but didn’t take the time to hear out your response. Whatever it was going to be, it was immediately replaced with a startled gasp as he pulled you toward him. It only took a slight tug to get you into his lap, allowing his hands to wander over your flesh, “…lemme touch you.”

Your heart was clamoring at the contact. His touch wasn’t exactly subtle, lacking the finesse of a long-term partner, and instead was more testing. Experimental- though, you supposed your own were the same way. “You- you really don’t need to-” You hated the way you stuttered, the way your hands instantly went to cover his. To stop him. It’d be a complete lie to deny that you were enjoying his soft touches. And his voice in the dark, and the way his large fuzzy eyelights just slightly illuminated his face. It was against every instinct you had to keep yourself from arching into his touches, to keep your breathing steady.

“stars. i _wanna_.” He mumbled, leaning closer to keep his voice low. The scent of your skin, the scent of _you-_ he couldn’t stop his magic from forming in his mouth. He didn’t know when he’d pressed his teeth to your neck, but once he was there, he couldn’t help but nip the skin gently, smirking when you whined at the slight tingle of his tongue against your flesh. He glanced at you cautiously, “…you ‘kay?” He murmured against you.

You’d completely frozen up. “I…” You hesitantly let go of his hands. A brief nod was as much as you could manage, but that was all the confirmation Sans needed. He smirked against you, snaking his hands around your waist, stroking the small of your back before wandering down to grasp your ass. Why did little touches like that make your skin burn? _Why were you so affected by him_? It took a moment to settle your nerves, but once you did, Sans movements somehow seemed _loud._ He hadn’t done anything differently, but his intentions seemed perfectly clear. Uninhibited, and you couldn’t bring yourself to mind. You placed your hands on his cheekbones, raising his face to meet yours. “I don’t understand you.” You mumbled, before gently pressing your lips against his teeth. Even when you knew he could form a tongue, it was still somehow strange to feel it when it slid across your lips.

“ ‘s there to get?” He murmured, barely separating from you before immediately resuming the kiss, humming in approval when you parted your lips and let him kiss you deeper. His question went unanswered when he pushed you back, never daring to break the contact. He never really thought much of sex- just something fun to pass the time (with monsters and the occasional human), but when he heard your shaky breaths, and felt your clumsy hands fondle his ribs underneath his shirt, he felt… oddly warm. Not in the aroused sort of way. He shook the thought; whatever dream this probably was wouldn’t benefit from his analyzation.

You were reeling from his kiss- how could he kiss so well without lips? The fizz of his magic against your tongue, you reasoned, but even so, that didn’t account for his hands pushing up your shirt, gently tracing over every scar, making you wish he’d just toss your shirt off and touch you like you were too nervous to suggest. He was being cautious- and the thought was nice- but your need to be touched was overwhelming. Just as the thought to pull away crossed you, Sans ground his pelvis against yours, causing you to moan at the much-needed friction. You broke the kiss for a moment to glance up at him curiously. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate the feeling- but more that you were questioning _how_ —?

Sans’ half-lidded gaze sent your body into overdrive. A _skeleton_. _Was **sexy**_. As if in response to your unvoiced question, he opened his jaw, showing off his magical blue tongue. You could barely reject the urge to laugh at how it faintly glowed in the dark. How _crazy_ was this? For a long moment you watched him, until he bucked his hips into yours again. _Oh._ He could form a _tongue_ with his magic, why wouldn’t he be able to form…? He chuckled as he watched the realization flash through your eyes.

You nearly scoffed as you looked back up at him, “Don’t _laugh_. How was I supposed to-” Your words were interrupted when he dragged his tongue down your neck, gently biting your collarbones, thoroughly disrupting your train of thought. You weren’t entirely sure when he managed to get your shirt over your head without you realizing, and last you looked at him, you recalled _him_ being clad in a shirt as well, but any barriers broken between him and you were entirely welcome. It was fascinating, really, the curve of his ribs. The texture of his vertebrae as you ran your hand down his spine. The noises he was making. The noises _you_ were making. How his weight against you managed to be comforting, how his fingers traced down your arm, tracking every scar, every painful memory, before interlocking his  fingers with yours- extinguishing all of them.  

Everything was still blurry, now that you really focused on it. Other than the intention in his movements- which all but screamed that this was as much for your benefit as it was for his- everything was fuzzy. Warm. Lucid, almost…

 

You gasped as you opened your eyes. That… was _not okay._ Other than the way your heart was racing- and… maybe how hot you felt, nothing indicated that any of that had ever occurred. Just a dream. You sat up, glancing at the loudly snoring skeleton. You were tucked against his side (…again) but, even he seemed unperturbed. Perhaps that was for the better, actually. But what in the fuck kind of dream was that? You rubbed your eyes with the back of your wrists. Stress. Yeah. Of course. Stress from… work? ~~And tension~~. A lot of it. Yes. That you would _never think about again._ Yeah.

You slipped out of bed, pulling the curtain back to assess the situation. The roads had yet to be cleared (and it’d probably take a while for them to get out here), so driving back immediately was out of the question.  It was around six now- Ron would definitely be at the station. Which meant it would probably be best to inform of the situation and why you were absent. As you picked up your cell, you stared at the number, debating just telling him that you were sick. It’d be much easier to explain. But knowing Ron, he’d probably drop by your house with soup and medicine, that good-hearted asshole. Then he’d figure out you weren’t anywhere near where you were supposed to be.

…Besides, you tried to make it a habit to be as honest with him as possible. He deserved it. Even if he was going to tease you relentlessly about it.

The phone barely rang twice before that familiar voice came from the other line, “Hey, Chief?”

“Hey, Ron.” You leaned against the wall, staring out the window absently, “I’m not going to be in until later today. You know what to do.” You heard a slight mumble of agreement before he paused.

“Is something wrong?” Even if you expected him to ask, his concern was still touching.

“Nothing’s wrong.” You assured him, “Just weather problems.” All that snow. It’d be beautiful if you weren’t trapped here because of it. But you were glad that you got up early enough to see it undisturbed. It was your favorite part of snow storms.

“Do you need me to come get you or something?”

“Relax. It’ll just be a few hours.” You hoped, at least. Nothing more should go wrong.

“Well, what about Sans, do you need me to check on him for you?”

You looked back toward the bed, watching that mess of a skeleton snore away. “…Not necessary.” You cringed at that slight delay before your answer. Ron- of all people- would read into that. He always did.

“… _(Y/n)?_ ”

Damn. You could already hear the skepticism. “He’ll be fine-”

“He’s with you, isn’t he?”

“ _Dammit,_ Ronald, that’s beside the point-”

“Oh my god, (Y/n).” You could practically hear that grin through his voice. He sighed, dramatically, “Just get together already.”

“ _No_.”

“It’d be good for you. Come on. When’s the last time you even went on a date?”

“ _Ron, shut up._ ”

“Won’t you think about it, at least? Miranda’d be happy to see you two together.” As if _you_ hadn’t seen _enough_ of you together in your dreams…

“You know I don’t have _time_ for that kind of thing. When I’m around Sans I might as well be on the cock- **_Clock!_** ” You hid your face in your palm, hoping the burning would subside quickly. What the _hell_. You’d said worse things in front of him, but never sober. You cleared your throat, “Let’s drop this. Immediately.”

Ron’s unrestrained laughs on the other end made you want bang your head against the wall repeatedly. “Been thinking about the _bone-zone_?”

You had never been more mortified in your life. “If I hear _one word_ about this _ever again_ —”

“All bark, Chief.” Ron said, his chuckles finally subsiding, “But I’ll handle everything on this end. Have fun.”

You knew you were never going to live that one down.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I may or may not have omitted three pages of this chapter in order to keep the teen rating, maybe.  
> If you're interested in reading that dream that I've removed, raise your hand and say "THROW ME IN THE SIN BIN!"  
> I might just change the rating, if enough people are interested... I did say we'd get into sinner territory up in the tags.
> 
> Aaand, this ain't too relevant, but how would you feel about an Underfell version of SotM?? Because I may or may not have an outline for one.


	16. And Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you head home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowee, 50 bookmarks??? What?? What're ya'll doin'?! Thanksies, it's nice to know you're reading <3

You stared out the window absently, using the silent time to calm your nerves. Like that was going to happen. You rubbed your fingers over the back of your palm, feeling your face flush when the memories of that dream came back. Ridiculous. All of it. Really. You closed your eyes and exhaled. This line of thought needed to stop here; whatever repressed urges or hormones these were should have no bearing on anything, ever, and they needed to be buried away _right now._ Sans was-

You cut the thought, opening your eyes to glance over at him. What… _was_ Sans? A felon, still? Did police take felons out star gazing? Share their pasts with them? _Dream_ about them? You were past denial there; he wasn’t just a felon. You enjoyed hearing that stupid chuckle of his and seeing his starry eyes. Even his passion about the stars, too. So, what was Sans? Just the brother of a past charge? Could you just tack Papyrus in there and call it a day? No. Of course not. Papyrus had nothing to do with that dream. So, _what was Sans_? The question hung in your mind, as you stared out the window. Why were you even thinking this? That dream was exactly that- a _dream_. Changing titles was completely unwarranted. But… maybe you just wanted to know what to call him in your thoughts.

You listened to him snore, and couldn’t help but roll your eyes. You’d never admit it, but perhaps he could be… a friend? You meandered over to the bed, sitting on the edge, “Even if it’s just for now…” You repeatedly ran your hand through your hair, observing Sans as you sat. He seemed so much smaller without that jacket. Fragile, almost. Your eyes tracked over the curve of his ribs underneath his shirt, how they rose and fell. You still didn’t really understand.  You felt your nails bite her palm, and only then had you realized you lifted your hand. With a sharp intake of breath, you immediately forced your palm on the mattress. “…The hell am I doing?” You hissed. You couldn’t just— _touch_ him. _Especially_ on his ribs, if your dreams were anything to go by!

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. You didn’t have problems. You weren’t repressed. You _didn’t_ want to fuck a skeleton, no matter if they had magical cocks or not. The more you tried to convince yourself, the worse it got. You sighed for what had to be the millionth time, hoping it’d be the one to expel the thoughts. It wasn’t.

“(y/n)?” His sleep riddled voice rasped from behind you, causing you to freeze. Noticeably. Weird. He rolled over, running his hand over your arm to get your attention. And when he did?

_Your fingers across his ribs, down his spine. Your lips against his teeth. Your breathless moans, stars, the warmth of your body against his._

He immediately drew it back, scrambling to sit up, equally startled at how you darted away from him. He clutched his shirt- he dreamt that- he _knew_ he dreamt every moment of it- but **_fuck_**. His eyelights hesitantly scanned you. Arms crossed, but not tightly- _disapprovingly-_ like he was used to seeing. More like you were… _hiding._ From _him._ And your eyes were fixed anywhere but him.

“Sans. Morning.” You stood up straight, conspicuously wringing edge of your shirt. The action was so… _innocent_. It nearly made Sans do a doubletake, just to ensure he didn’t get drunk off his bony ass and go home with some random human, by chance. But… nope. Still in the hotel room. Still the chief. He scanned your body in spite of himself, absently checking your neck for marks- _his marks_ \- and genuinely wasn’t sure if the sigh that left him was relieved or… a little disappointed.

“g’morning.” He pulled at the collar of his shirt, “so. uh.” He watched you back into the bathroom door, giving a surprised yelp when the small of your back rammed into the doorknob before you fumbled behind you, hurriedly opening it, without turning your back to him. “heh. i guess even you can be a _door_ able sometimes.”

“I’m not- why would you-?” Adorable! _Adorable!_ “ _D-don’t_.” You swore under your breath at how you stuttered. You hesitantly looked at him from across the room, wishing the floor would swallow you right now. How could that look be anymore smug? He was _always_ grinning- when did you learn to tell the difference? Maybe it was just paranoia, like he could somehow tell what you dreamt and was now dangling it over your head, just to embarrass you.

You paused. Wait.

You’d seen _his_ dream before- _experienced it-_ did that… go both ways?

 “ ** _Fuck_**.” Within a moment, you flushed a vibrant red, covered your face with her palms and slammed the bathroom door before sliding down to sit on the floor. No amount of internal screaming could fully encompass the spectrum of embarrassment and mortification you were experiencing in that moment.

Outside the door, Sans tilted his head slightly. Well. That was one of the more extreme reactions to his puns he’d seen. You were usually displeased, but that seemed… excessive. Even for you. Grabbing his jacket as he ambled over to the door, he hesitantly leaned his shoulder against it.

“knock, knock?”

“…”

“c’mon, (y/n). you’re ‘sposed to say ‘who’s there?’”

You groaned, burying your face in your knees. “Fine. Who’s there, Sans.”

“wire.”

“…Wire who?”

“wire you so upset?”

You shuffled, tapping your fingers against your kneecap, “I’m not upset.” It was so much easier to steady your voice- to sound confident- when he couldn’t see you. “I just…” You hesitated, running your fingers over the scar on your thigh, “…panicked.” The word tailed off, nearing inaudible as you exhaled. This needed to stop. Right now. You were an adult. No need for any of this shy teenage bullshit, right? It was only a dream. That’s it. Even if he did see it-

You groaned. No. If he saw it, you’d have to die right here in this bathroom, no matter how undignified it was. How would he even respond to that? Well. Maybe you were getting ahead of yourself? Maybe he didn’t see it at all and had no clue why you were so frazzled? “…So, you didn’t… see it?”

Sans’s eyebrow bones furrowed. He didn’t see _what_ …? You just watched him wake up, didn’t you? “i don’t…?” He slid down, sitting on the floor. Maybe he was still groggy after staying up for so long just to watch the stars- what was it he was missing? “i don’t get you, chief.”

_Your hand on his cheek, a ghost of a smile tugging at your lips as you kissed him, “I don’t understand you.”_

His eyes widened. Oh. Oh _right._ The **SYNC.** He felt his magic burn his face, undoubtedly casting a blue glow on the walls and anywhere else. “oh my stars.” He mumbled, pulling his hoodie over his skull. He’d been so comfortable that he completely forgot his resolution to never _ever_ allow that to occur again.

You felt your nails bite into your skin. “You saw it.” You couldn’t even raise your voice; all you could manage was a flat statement. You weren’t sure if his silence was him taking it better or worse than you did.

Sans wanted to just recede into his jacket and never emerge again. Was it _him_ projecting his dream, or was he receiving _yours?_ He remembered having full autonomy, but judging by the way you were acting, you seemed to think it was _yours._

He, uh… wasn’t sure how he’d feel if it was yours.

The silence between you was unnervingly loud. Silence and uncertainty. Sans searched frantically through his mind for anything to say to dismiss the situation and return it to the amicably hostile atmosphere you both were used to. This was just… _uncomfortable._ “heh. all the bad parts of a one-night stand with none of the fun…” As soon as he opened his mouth, he wished he hadn’t. What the fuck did he just say? Did he just. Attribute your dream. To a _one-night stand? The dream you had **because your souls were compatible?**_

The initial lack of response made him sweat. Stupid. Stupid, stupid. What an _incomprehensibly stupid_ thing to say. “Good to know at least one of us has experience with that kind of thing.” You sighed, running your hand through your hair. You were never the type; you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Never could, even when you were younger. Sex was intimate, and you’d never let someone you didn’t trust that close to you.

The response he actually got was worse than the silence. He didn’t think it was possible to have such a dismissive statement sound so… _judgmental._ He wasn’t sure why he’d even take it so personally. It wasn’t like you said he was bad for it. You just sounded… _personally offended._ “well, uh- i wouldn’t say _experience-_ just, y’know, once or twice-”

“So that’s what you meant when you said you didn’t _date_ humans.” He felt his words come back and pierce him right through the soul. He didn’t even know you _remembered_ that. He froze, unsure of what to say to smooth the situation over- unsure if he even could. “Well. Let’s treat it that way, then.” Your voice was so resolute. A cold edge running through your words that he didn’t even realize had disappeared until it was back in place. The door inched open, giving him time to stand up and back away. He watched as you went to gather your uniform, giving him only the briefest of side glances before you went about your business.

Damn. That… hurt. “(y/n), c’mon _-”_

“Forget it.” You paused before you shut the door to the bathroom. “Get ready to go.” Before he could even respond, the door was closed, and he was alone in the room.

 When he heard the shower turn on, there was no singing.

 

The ride back was… insufferable. Every attempt at a conversation fizzled out immediately. Even his puns were met with a _look_. And not even one of your usual, playfully unimpressed ones. Just… a tired, betrayed sort of glance before you’d turn your eyes back onto the road and turn the radio up a little higher. He sunk into the seat, watching the snow-covered scenery pass by. Another hour of this; and all he could do was question why, of all things, he’d said _that._

By the time they got into the thick of Ebott City, your phone rang, causing Sans to glance up at you curiously. He was completely dismissed as you answered the call over your car’s Bluetooth. “Chief (L/N) speaking.”

“Chief. It’s Marks.” You nodded absently, and Ron continued speaking, “The King of Monsters is here at the station, looking for you.”

“asgore?”

Without even looking over at him, you lifted a hand from the steering wheel, snapping your wrist in a ‘ _zip it’_ motion. “He’s still there?”

“Yeah. Says it’s important. I told him that you won’t be in until later, but he refused to leave.” Ron could be heard shuffling on the other side of the line, “I tried talking to him myself, but he said he’d prefer to speak with you personally.”

You sighed, “Not an issue. I’m close by anyway. Tell him I’ll be there within the hour.” You paused tapping the steering wheel. “Thanks for handling things.”

“Of course, Chief.”

Quiet, yet again. “whaddya think is up with asgore?”

“I already know.” You’d been expecting some communication from him _eventually._ You intended to initiate it yourself before you got distracted with… whatever this was. You felt Sans watching you, waiting for you to go on and he sighed when you never did.

“…which is?”

You only turned the radio up louder, hoping it would signify the end of your interest in pursuing this conversation. It was classified. Besides, you already mentioned it to him, even if he hadn’t realized it. If he didn’t remember, you had no desire to remind him.

…Or maybe you were still a little bitter about that one-night stand comment. You sighed. It wasn’t real, and even if it was, why did you care? He wasn’t interested in seeing humans. And you weren’t interested in seeing anyone, least of all the brother of a monster who you trained once. What he knew about you, how much trust you put in him, the comfort and warmth you felt? Damn it all. Didn’t mean anything. There was no point in wanting something you would just lose. Or didn’t want you in the first place.

After parking in the lot near his apartment you finally looked at him. This was the monster that threw you against the wall so hard that it gave you a concussion. And you had the _gall_ to think warmly of him. The least funny, laziest, slob you knew. And you _wanted_ to be around him. You unlocked the door, stepping out and enjoying the chill of the air. Without waiting for him, you unloaded everything he tossed into the car then headed toward his apartment. While waiting at the door, you were unsurprised when you didn’t hear him open the car door or walk behind you. He just… _appeared_ there.

He opened up the front door for you and you set everything down on the couch. “(y/n). can ya just _talk_ to me for a sec-” You rolled your eyes, pushing him back onto the couch. You ignored his shocked splutter as you kneeled down beside him. “w-wait, what are y—?” Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out the connector to the ankle monitor. It beeped for a moment before unlatching, and you pulled it off. “…why did you…?”

“I have better things to spend my time on.” You stood up, looking down at him coldly. You internally cringed at your own words- did you mean them? Maybe the better question was- did it matter? You watched his eyelights shrink, and immediately wanted amend what you said, but forced yourself to stay silent. Getting attached to him would only hurt. It _already_ hurt.

That moment felt like forever. But you sighed and turned away, straightening your posture and heading toward the door. You had to get out of here and calm your nerves before you met with Asgore. None of this mattered. You’d gotten within a foot of the door before a bony hand caught your wrist, causing you to freeze.

“ _wait a second.”_   He loosened his grip, “stars, just _listen_ to me.” He heard you exhale. That was probably the best he was going to get, so he decided to go with it. “i…” He’d thought he prepared himself to explain, but… he was panicking. Shaking, even, but he had to say it. The threat of never seeing you again- or at the very least, being ignored if he did- spurred him forward. “well. look. earlier. about the dream- and what i said- i didn’t mean it that way.”

You turned your head to look back at him. Before you could ask, he kept talking, “just wanted to make it better.” He scratched the back of his skull with his free hand, “didn’t really think through the implications and- well- uh.” He sighed; spit it out, Sans. “i really l- uh, well it didn’t mean nothing to me. the dream.”

Stars, that blush. It made him breathe a little easier. Okay. Now the hard part. “and… i, uh… learned how they work.” At that, you turned around fully, and he almost wished you hadn’t. The rattling of his bones was impossible to ignore, but the way your eyes were trained on him, it seemed like it didn’t even register. “it’s…” He swore at himself for stammering. “…we uh… _sync,_ (y/n).”

“…What?”

Shit.

With how he was sweating, he was sure your wrist was tingling at the contact of his magic. “okay. so- uh. souls, they kind of. exist.”

“Enlightening.”

“and when they sync they uh. sort of. mix.” He wished Toriel was here to explain because this was going downhill fast. “so, when we had that dream… our souls were… together. yours. and mine.”

He felt all the tension just drop from your body, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. Shock? He tightened his grip around your hand (when did it get there?), and hesitantly scanned you. Your face was completely unreadable, and that made him anxious. “so…” Your hand in his was suddenly his only concern, as he couldn’t bring himself to look up at you again. “i dunno if you were _soul_ d on that explanation but…”

He felt your hand squeeze his, just for a moment, before you abruptly shook it off, pulling it back to you person. You looked over him, took a breath, like you wanted to say something, before sighing and heading out the door. Sans chuckled to himself, but he wasn’t sure if it was to numb the pain or because he hadn’t really expected anything different.

 

You walked through the station’s halls, acutely aware of the silence. It was… unusual. You figured it had to do with Asgore’s arrival- the presence of a king was bound to turn some heads. You were pleased they were on their best behavior. You couldn’t deal with someone being out of line right now. You pushed open Ron’s office door, unsurprised to see the large goat king sitting awkwardly in one of the chairs.

“Asgore.”

“Miss Chief.”

He stood up, offering a polite nod to the Deputy in thanks before following you over to your office. Once the door closed behind him, Asgore slouched slightly, “I am sincerely sorry for inconveniencing you, Miss Chief, but unfortunately the news I come with is dire.” His melancholic eyes seemed sunken with worry. Clearly sleep deprived. The look of a caring leader.

“I know.” You sat down in your chair behind your desk, pulling open a drawer to remove its files. “There have been reports of disappearances.” You slid the vanilla file toward him, watching as he slowly flipped through papers, seeming to ingrain each photo into his memory. “But… without proper collaboration with witnesses, my officers have trouble tracking solid leads.”

“I understand.” Asgore’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at the papers. His breath, though slow, seemed labored. Pained. “I have reason to believe that these are murders.” He reached into his pocket, unfolding a small, torn piece of paper, setting it flat on the desk. “…It is not much, but it was given to me by one of my people.” You tilted your head, looking over the plain sheet. Written in the middle, sloppily, was ‘THERE WILL BE MORE’. Unsettling, but not compelling. You looked back up at Asgore, ready to relay your thoughts when his sad eyes stopped you. That look. You had to force your gaze back onto the paper. “The remains were located in a condemned building the family was taken shelter in…”

You ran your fingers over your nails. Monsters were… difficult. Human analysts were still trying to figure out forensics with magic, and autopsies were impossible when the body turned to dust. It wasn’t that yuo didn’t care about the monster citizens, it was just _incredibly_ difficult to trace anything solid- especially when many monsters were too hesitant to speak to humans about what they knew. “I… could have the paper sent to an analyst. Kept for evidence. But until witnesses come forward, or someone is caught in the act, my hands are tied, Asgore.”

“Could you not issue a public warning? Or perhaps increase patrols? My people are dying- I cannot… I cannot allow…” Asgore’s furry hands shook, and you had to force yourself to breathe to keep your composure. Seeing such a regale man like that was… painful. He didn’t deserve this.

“I’ll be blunt. I can’t make a public statement about the disappearances. It’d tip off the perpetrator. Not to mention, monsters are already wary of the human population; the social climate right now is delicate. If they knew and we can’t solve them promptly, it’ll seem like an act of discrimination.” You tapped the desk, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. It was intense, sad but not resigned. A willingness to do whatever it takes for his people. You admired that.

“…Is it not discrimination?” His usually soft tone lowered, becoming a rumble. Deep and commanding. You forced yourself not to cringe.

“No. It’s lack of evidence.” You wished you didn’t have to do this- especially to Asgore. Why couldn’t he just understand? “You can’t come into my office with a piece of paper, claiming it’s a valid reason to send the entire city into panic. We already have hate groups on both sides. We tip the scales, and the anti-human groups will retaliate. That happens and Ebott is going to become a battle ground for a race war.” You clasped your hands in front of you on the desk. “And allow me to tell you this; if that happens, monsterkind won’t come out on top. If humans start dying in mass, they’ll take action. And there’ll be nothing I, or you, can do to stop it. I’m not saying this because I hate monsters, Asgore. I’m saying this because it’s true.”

“So, my people must die?” You swore his baritone shook your office. But you held strong.

“The needs of the many, Asgore.” You watched his clawed hands scrape against the top of your desk. You closed your eyes, “If a few people have to die, then it must be.” You paused, meeting his eyes once more, “…You, of all people, should know that.”

He stopped. The room was uncannily quiet as he scanned your face. He never wanted to use the fallen children to break the barrier. It was never his intention to hurt anyone, but it was the only hope for his people to be free. He bowed his head, “Yes. Of course.” He exhaled, “…The perpetrator must still be stopped.”

“We agree on that point.” You tapped your finger against the wood, “…I said _I_ couldn’t issue a public statement. And while I wouldn’t advise you to inform the public what’s going on, perhaps you could just… let them know to be careful.” The guilt was clearly eating Asgore alive. You could relate, but you knew it wouldn’t help anyone if you let it consume you, cloud your rationale.

“Yes. Perhaps we could begin to garner trust with human enforcers in monster communities, as well. It may encourage them to share information.” He slid the paper toward you, “I know it is not much. But we cannot allow this to continue.”

“I’ll do what I can, Asgore.”

“Thank you, Miss (Y/N).”

 

At Sans’ apartment, he laid on the couch, phone in hand. He’d been debating on sending a text for the last hour, but in the end, his apathy won out and he just… sat there. He missed Papyrus. He missed the time when Papyrus’s happiness was the only concern he had because everything else was just set dressing. He looked down at the phone, noting the time. Nearing noon. He forced himself off the couch, zipping up his coat as he headed toward the door.

He was immediately taken in by the warm atmosphere and familiar hum of Grillby’s bar. Everyone greeted him like usual as he sauntered across the room to take his seat at the stools. He leaned against the counter, grinning when Grillby approached him. “hey bud.”

“……Sans.” His flames crackled as he observed the empty seat next to his skeleton customer, “……No companions today?” Grillby didn’t miss the way Sans’ grin tightened for just a second. He’d seen more of Sans than anyone, and he was no stranger to even the smallest of his tells. “……Something happen?”

“wha? no.” Sans chuckled, “what’dya say that for? ‘m fine.” Grillby set down the glass he was polishing, walking off, much to Sans’ confusion. Grillby was a strange guy. But Sans was grateful for him. He set his phone on the counter. He considered texting Frisk, telling them that he fucked up, but… he wouldn’t even know where to begin to explain to them. This was just something that’d have to be resolved with time. Probably. He hoped.

You seemed upset, but then again, when _didn’t you_? He chuckled to himself. Who was he kidding? He’d started learning your subtleties. When you were joking, when you were covering up your embarrassment. But after he’d explained the SYNC? Just… blank. Nothing. He couldn’t read past that look. He looked at his hand, curling his fingers. He never really liked humans that much. Besides Frisk, they were only there for experimenting- to break his life’s mundane routine. They never really cared about _him_ , only what his magic could do, and he had no issue with that. If they wanted to fetishize him, he could accept that, but they weren’t… _real._ Emotional. Connection.

Then you. Stars. _You._

He hated you, at first. And the feeling was mutual. But then… things shifted. Maybe it was just proximity. He only _thought_ he felt something for you because you were _there._ Had been there. “yeah, right.” He mumbled, touching his jacket above his sternum. His soul was connected to yours. And even if it _wasn’t,_ he still liked seeing those rare smiles. He liked watching you change, seeing you open up and become a person. A _real_ person- not just someone who wanted to use him for something, then ditch him when you were satisfied. Set dressing. A toy. And _stars_ that’s what he equated you to. Something flimsy and unimportant, not worth the effort. Temporary.

The sound of Grillby setting a glass down in front of him drew him out of his thoughts. “……I’m here.” Sans stared at the glass before smiling up at him.

“you’re the best, grillbz. y’know that?”

He wasn’t sure how many of those glasses Grillby brought him before he started talking, but he knew he had to be pretty drunk if he was opening up at all. Grillby had taken a seat across from him, quietly listening as Sans took stirred his drink absentmindedly.

“ ‘member that cop i brought here. the one who paid you?”

“……(Y/N).”

“yeah. (y/n).” Sans nodded, “…think i might be in like with ‘er. just a little.” He sighed, “i mean. a lot.” He looked up at Grillby for help, “but ‘m pretty sure i fucked up. a lot.” He took another drink, numbed to the sting. “but the weird part? it hurts. i didn’t think it should. i didn’t think i could hurt like that.” He traced the rim of the glass, “i held ‘er hand and told’er we were soulmates. i think she hates me.”

“……Why would she hate you for that?”

“not for being soulmates. we had this dream and i think i hurt her feelings. didn’t _mean_ to.” He sighed, “she just went cold, and all the emotions i’ve ever seen went away. i don’t want her to go away. she knows things about me. she helped paps.” He drooped, leaning against the counter. “i know things about _her._ i want her to laugh at my jokes. i want to see her still...”

“……I don’t think she hates you, Sans.” Grillby cleared the glasses away before they suffered an unfortunate fate at the hands of a drunk skeleton. Instead of more alcohol, he returned with water. “……She just needs some time.”

“ ‘s too late. she said she had better things to do. ‘m even off house arrest now. she’s not coming back.”

Grillby knew logic wouldn’t be too helpful while he was in this state, but he seemed to settle down as he closed his eyes. It wouldn’t be the first time he fell asleep at the bar, so he just sighed, and let him stay. Even if nothing was really resolved, he was glad Sans was at least talking about it. His tendency to hold everything in was always concerning…

 

It was closing when Sans finally woke up. Grillby had already wiped down everything and had just taken a seat next to him, relaxing after a hard day. “uh… sorry for passin’ out here. today was long.”

The elemental glanced over at him, a hint of a smile beneath his flames. “……I’ll forgive you…if you pay your tab.” Sans’ chuckle made Grillby relax just a little more. Even if he was down, he would be okay. Sans was determined that way. “......But Sans. I considered what you said.” The skeleton went rigid. What… did he say? “……Imagine how stressful it must be for her. Not just dealing with you- but being Chief. She will come around.”

Had he… mentioned you? Apparently so. Even if Grillby didn’t know the specifics, it was still nice to hear it come from someone else- however much he doubted it’s accuracy.

 “yeah… thanks, grillbz.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gettin' the plot back on track! Utter drama and sadness. The only thing I'm good for, really. Also Chief returns to proper tsundere form.
> 
> Also. I'm going to write about Asgore one day. That goat dad. I love him. Mark my words. Someday, Asgore. You'll be mine.


	17. Locked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which isolation sets in... On both sides, really.

Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. He had the freedom to go out, buy whatever he wanted, see whoever he wanted. _Do_ whatever he wanted. Wasn’t that a good thing? He sighed as he leaned up against the door frame. This feeling… It’d fade with time. It always did. Or… at least that’s what his internet searches said. He hoped, for his sake, they were right.

He’d been free to do what he wanted for three days now, and if he wasn’t at Grillby’s, he was in bed. Not that he wouldn’t have been regardless, but… there was nothing to get him up, now. He’d even taken up the habit of checking his phone periodically, expecting a message he knew was never coming. Only an old text, that seemed intent on taunting him- ‘ _Thank you. See you later.’_ It made him squirm every time he looked at it.

“Greetings, Sans. What a pleasant surprise to see you!” Toriel’s gentle voice startled him, causing him to fumble with his phone before shoving it into his pocket. “It has been so long since you visited us. Please, come in.” She stepped aside, letting the short skeleton amble in, wandering his way toward the couch. He heard the Queen call for Frisk, but he was preoccupied, palming his phone in his pocket. Knowing it wasn’t going to vibrate, yet silently hoping to himself that maybe… _maybe_ it would. He felt Frisk catapult onto the couch beside him, waving their hands in front of his face until he looked up and met their eyes.

‘Hey! Earth to Sans!’ Frisk sat back, content now that they held Sans’ attention, ‘You’re really distracted today.’

Sans chuckled, “heh. can ya blame me for _spacing_ out?’ He glanced at the television- the news, Tori’s usual- before looking back over at Frisk, grinning at their quiet chortles. He reached out, giving their hair a quick tousle then pulled out his phone to check it. He internally groaned- he _wished_ it was a reflex, or automatic reaction, but he knew nothing was coming. It was just… agonizing to keep checking like this. And it was worse since he was doing this to himself.

‘Expecting a text from a certain someone?’ Frisk waggled their eyebrows knowingly, leaning over Sans’ shoulder to get a peek at his screen. ‘Wait. Isn’t that the message from forever ago?’ Sans scratched the back of his skull, wishing desperately that Frisk would stop hitting him with that disappointed gaze. If he could spill the entire situation to them, he would, but he wasn’t sure where he’d even start.

“‘s private.” He set the phone face down on the arm of the couch, sliding it out of their reach. “…not important anyway.” Whether Frisk had taken guilting-lessons from Toriel or had done a spectacular job at emulating _him_ during judgement, Sans wasn’t sure, but it took everything he had just to block them out.

‘Sans, didn’t you tell Miss Chief that you were soulmates?’ Frisk had been eagerly awaiting when Sans would come back with all the details but… this isn’t what they were expecting. Toriel had discouraged them from asking any questions unprovoked, but now that he was here, it was the perfect time to make sure things were going okay. Yet… Sans seemed… avoidant. Even moreso than usual. He’d always been mysterious and nonchalant about everything during the time Underground, but Frisk chalked that up to his knowledge of the resets. Experiencing and knowing everything that was going to go on was bound to make him numb to it. Maybe shutting down was just his response to stress? They still didn’t really understand Sans, despite all they’ve seen of him.

He stared at the phone, tapping his phalanges against his femur repeatedly, “…i told her.” It was so quiet, Frisk nearly missed it. They sat up straight, patting Sans’ shoulder gently. Despite their supportive gesture, though, their mind was reeling. If you knew, then why would you be avoiding him? Didn’t he tell you how rare and special it was? That it needed to be cherished?

‘What happened? Did she…’ They tailed off, unsure of what to make of Sans’ demeanor. ‘I mean, she seemed happy about the flowers, why haven’t you talked since then?’

Sans shuffled in his seat. He knew Frisk was only trying to help, and he both loved and resented them for it. And himself. He looked over at them, resignedly. It didn’t really matter, did it? Once the kid was set on doing something, it was going to happen. “i mighta… said something. again.” He almost missed the resets when it came to social interactions. He couldn’t remember what it was like to fuck up- especially this bad- when he was Underground. And even if he _did,_ by chance, he knew it wasn’t for forever anyway. But this? When he actually _cared_ and wanted things to work out, in the long run? Stars, he wasn’t ready. It’s been two years, and only now was it starting to sink in, that _this was life._ He was _living._ No do-overs this time. He had to fix it himself, and he wasn’t sure where to begin.

‘Why don’t you buy her more flowers?’ Frisk suggested, ‘It worked the first time, right?’

Sans’ shrugged, “doubt it. i don’t think she wants’ta see me.” Even when he _already_ knew that, saying out loud was like rubbing salt in the wound. He folded his arms over his stomach, recalling the feeling of his hand around yours. Was it possible to miss something he never knew he even wanted? He’d never been a romantic- still wasn’t, really- but three days without that annoyed scowl made him realize that… he didn’t really want to be without it.

‘Sans! She’s your _soulmate!_ ’ Frisk signed at him, nearly waving their arms at him in their fervor, ‘I’m _pretty sure_ she wants to see you.’ They gave a labored sigh, as if the solution was the most obvious in the world, ‘Why don’t _you_ just go see _her_?’

Sans paused. Go to your office? Yeah, last time he did that, it ended up with him technically being arrested. Probably not the best idea. Besides, what would he even say? ‘ _hey, chief. i know you’re busy running the police station ‘n all, but we need to talk.’_ Yeah. No. “don’t think so, bud.”

Toriel entered the living room, handing off two slices of pie before taking a seat in her armchair across from them. She observed the skeleton and her child then tilted her head. “What has happened?”

‘Miss Chief won’t talk to Sans!’ Frisk signed before there was any opportunity to stop them. Sans froze, locked somewhere between feeling embarrassed and feeling betrayed. He wanted to backpedal, and just take everything he said back then teleport out of there, but he knew Toriel would’ve seen right through him, no matter what he said.

“That is truly unfortunate…” She hummed, lowering her eyes, “Is this about the **SYNC**?”

“…yes ‘n no.” Sans mumbled, sinking into his jacket, hoping, by chance, it might teleport him to a new dimension, somehow. Maybe the void, if possible. “we just- i mean she- it’s not that serious ‘r anything…”

‘It’s serious enough that she doesn’t want to see you.’ Frisk stated bluntly. Again. That betrayal. Sans sighed, shrugging slightly and pushing his hood up. He couldn’t argue them; it was true. But he wasn’t sure if he wanted Toriel knowing about it.

“Oh my.” Toriel watched Sans for a bit before sighing, “Does that bother you? I thought you were not interested in pursuing anything with her.”

He groaned, “course it bothers me.” He unconsciously reached for his phone, faltering a bit when he saw there was still no new messages. He expected it, but _damn._ He’d even take a ‘What you said was awful and I hate you’ text. At least that’d have a sense of closure to it. “i mean. ’s pretty bad that she’s upset ‘n all, but worse since… i’ve seen ‘er smile, y’know? there’s somethin’ under the uniform and… i wanna meet _her._ not the chief. _(y/n)_. ‘n now…”

Silence.

“…i can’t.”

Such silence.

The goat woman’s heart clenched as she watched him. She knew what it was like, for one’s soul to long for another’s. She experienced such heartache. And she’d never wish it on another, for as long as she lived. To see it on her dear friend, one usually so stoic and guarded with his thoughts and emotions… It was deeply unpleasant.

 She locked eyes with Frisk, mirroring their sympathetic look. Then suddenly… Frisk lit up. Behind their usually calm countenance, Toriel recognized a plan forming, set in motion and bound to succeed by their determination alone. And… perhaps a little assistance from Toriel.

 

At the station, you leaned against your desk, absently scanning through a report. At Asgore’s urging, you’d sent more patrols into the neighborhoods to get acquainted with the local monster communities. With… mixed success. Some areas took kindly to the units, speaking freely with the officers when they arrived, while others were… defensive. You frowned at the paper, as if it was the cause of all your problems. You didn’t blame the monsters for being suspicious, necessarily. Considering the circumstances, it probably looked more like profiling, sending the units into monster-dominant neighborhoods. You sighed, drooping until your head was on the desk.

Not only was it stressful on the monster citizens, it was stressful on the officers, as well. You’d hand-chosen the most forward and accepting officers in the bunch, and even they worried about their safety against magic. And there was nothing you could say that could give them any comfort. Their lives were at risk, that was their job. You hated to admit it, you were losing sleep over the thought that any of your officers would be killed, due to your negligence. You didn’t understand magic well enough to protect them- or give them something to protect them- and it was eating you up inside. But that’s how it was.

You sighed, closing your eyes. “That’s how it goes.” People will die. There will always be things you can’t control. They’ll die, and it’ll be your fault. That’s what you accepted going into this position. You’d bear their deaths and try to prevent and protect as many others as possible. “That’s how it goes.” You’d protect the monster citizens and the human citizens equally. Ebott wouldn’t crumble from the inside out. Not from a race war. Not from anything. You’d do your job, and everything would be okay and safe. You’d ensure it. You’d _endure_ it. You had to. Because… “ _That’s how it goes…_ ”

The sound of your computer beeping with an incoming message made you raise your head up. ‘FF: URGENT- GBH REPORT. CASE FILE: 96706-02. CI WANDA RILEY.’

You sighed, reluctantly opening the message. It wouldn’t be forwarded to you if it wasn’t of the utmost relevance, but you were already dreading what was inside. You skimmed the first paragraph; a brief summary of the situation and crime scene- yesterday, four AM, condemned building.

You paused. Now you knew why this was forwarded to you. You took a breath before continuing with the email.

“At approximately 3:12 a call reporting a found body was received. Units were dispatched and arrived at 3:54. On scene, a monster with the given name Loumirra reported finding a deceased human. Victim is male. Late 20s-early 30s. Without identification. Likely homeless.  Victim was found with multiple stab wounds stab wounds to the abdomen. Lower intestines visibly protruding and perforated. Multiple stab wounds to the chest cavity are also visible. Chest wounds were performed post mortem, suggesting hostility and intent. Rigor mortis is minimal, suggesting time of death was recent, however with weather conditions, remains indeterminable. Found lodged inside an inflicted trunk wound was a paper with the following; “WE’RE STILL NOT DONE.’ Few leads on suspect were found or gathered. Loumirra refused to cooperate further.”

You stared at the attached image for an eternity.

 

The feeling of Ron tugging at your sleeve caused you to snap at the disruption. “What is it? I’m very busy-” You forced your back straight, readying your wrist to start typing a report before the hand on your shoulder tightened just slightly.

“You might fool rookies with that tone, (Y/N), but you don’t fool me. Drop it.” Ron scolded, then sighed abruptly. “48 hours with that screen’s bound to give you a migraine. Let up already.” His gentle tone allowed you to slouch in your seat. Even if he was right, your work was never done. Never would be until you retired or died.

“You know what they say; no rest for the weary.” You murmured under your breath, pinching the bridge of your nose. Ron’s light chuckle was almost infectious, making you smile, too. “But I’m fine, Ron. You know I’m comfortable here.” There was work if you got bored. Work, if you got hungry. Work, if you started to miss Casey. All you ever needed in one convenient office. Joy.

“If you’re fine, then I’m the King of Monsters.” He waved his hand over his head, as if to emphasize his point, “And I don’t know about you, but I don’t see a crown up there.”

You stared at your computer screen for a moment longer. You appreciated the distraction, but… “It’s an easy mistake.” You said halfheartedly, before setting your hand back on the mouse.

Ron sighed, “Don’t be so stubborn. Come on.” He gestured toward the door with his shoulder, “I’ll buy drinks all night if you go.” He circled around the desk, “Coming back to it tomorrow might make you feel better, you know.”

You scoffed, “What, looking through this shit with a hangover?” Despite arguing with him, you saved all your documents and shut down the computer. You stood up, stretching just slightly as you rounded your desk. You paused, “Won’t Miranda need you?”

“She’s fine, (Y/N).” Ron gave your shoulder a good pat, “I’m sure she’d approve of you relaxing, regardless.”

You smirked, rolling your eyes slightly as you fell in step with him, “You’re a terrible influence.”

 

You leaned against the counter, swiveling slightly in the bar stool. Last time you drank had to be after the academy graduation- and… that was a while ago, now. You had learned your lesson since then, but… you trusted Ron. He wouldn’t let you do anything ridiculous. Probably. You pushed the cocktail umbrella around, thinking back on the email you received. “ _‘We’re still not done’_ …” Who the hell was ‘we’? Assuming this suspect was the same involved with the case Asgore had brought to you, then… it wasn’t racially motivated. It was just someone fucking with you. Perhaps it was a group. …That was not comforting. You frowned. At least that might be a comfort to Asgore, but that also meant there was a serial killer loose in your city right now. For all you know, they could’ve slaughtered several monsters by now and the dust had just scattered. You sighed again.

“They say you’re not supposed to take work home with you. Whatever you’re thinking about can wait until tomorrow.” Ron took a shot, before tipping his fingers, suggesting you do the same.

“What am I, really, other than my work, though?” You mumbled, pulling the umbrella out and setting it on the counter. You downed the fruity drink, but cringed slightly at the burn. Alcohol wasn’t your favorite, but… it served its purpose. “I don’t really have much else at this point.”

Ron’s eyebrows furrowed, “That’s not true.” He folded his arms, “You’re just trying to bear the whole city’s burdens on your own, and you’ve pushed your own feelings to the wayside to do it.”

You shook your head, snickering slightly, “Don’t use your psych on me.” Your eyes wandered over to the bartender. You never really enjoyed the fuzzy feelings alcohol gave. It made you feel too comfortable and that had to be a bad thing. “…but you _are_ right.”

“I know I am.” He followed your gaze, “Want another?”

“Yeah.” What? _No_. One. The limit was always _one._

“Atta girl.” Ron smiled, flagging the young man down, “What’ll it be?”

“Martini. Vodka, dry, stirred, straight-up. And make it _dirty_.” You dropped your face into your palm. Well, the plan for one just went straight out the window.

It had to be the fourth drink, judging by the umbrellas, and you had stayed planted firmly in your seat, determined not to do something you’d regret immediately after. Ron glanced over at you, chuckling at your terse look.

“You alright, there?”

“Fine.” You murmured, nursing your drink. Everything was a little… wibbly. Slowing down seemed safest. “I’m fine.” The garnishes caught your attention, and the blue one made you think of a certain skeleton you had recently abandoned.

Your face must’ve changed, because Ron tapped the counter, “What are you thinking about?”

You sighed, “I missh him.” You hummed quietly, “Sheeing him wash fun. Different.”

“Ooh.” You looked up at him, unable to decipher exactly what Ron’s tone was. Knowing? Concerned? Oh well. You only flashed him a quick glare when he pulled out his phone. “Who exactly do you miss?”

“Shansh. Him and hish shtupid face.” You held the glass to your lips, but only used it as a deterrent. Couldn’t keep talking if there was a glass there, right? Besides. You didn’t even know why you were saying this. You probably only missed the banter. Yeah. Definitely, that was it.

“Why don’t you go see him, (Y/N)?”

“I can’t.” You stated bluntly. “Lasht time I shaw him, I told him that he wash free. I broke the deal.” You finished off the glass, and slid it with the others, “I don’t even know what I’d shay if I went back.”

“Well, why not just tell him you like him?”

“I don’t like him!” You hissed, yet the voice in your head echoed ‘Liar!’ until you were forced to put on the addendum, “…that mush.”

“Why don’t you just go back and…?”

You took a deep breath, before enunciating your words, “I was scared.” You touched your chest. After Sans had told you that your souls SYNCed- whatever that was- it made you panic. You barely understood magic, let alone souls. And to mix souls with a monster of all things- what does that _mean?_ If souls were the most intimate and personal parts of a person, what did it mean to share that? He’d see everything that made you, _you?_ Every experience, every regret, every joy, every sorrow? Were you even okay with sharing all of that…? And, even if you weren’t you _already_ synced- so did he know everything about you, already?  You closed your eyes before repeating, “I was _so fucking scared_.”

Though you felt his sympathetic gaze on you, you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it. Instead, you stacked the umbrellas into a makeshift pyramid. “Beshides… I’ve disshappointed everyone who ever loved me. What if… he regretted it?”

“Don’t be dramatic, (Y/N), that’s not—”

“No. I have. I should’ve jusht been finished my educashion degree like my mom shaid. If I did, Cashey’d still be alive. But noo. I wanted to be an offisher.” You knocked over the pyramid, “And, and—Cashey! He’d be _sho_ mad! I. Like. A. MONSHTER. The thing that killed him! Itsh the worst kind of betrayal!” You sighed, “Even if I _did_ go, back, he probably hatesh me right now. I panicked sho bad, I didn’t even say anything. I jusht left. I wanted to text him, but—but how do you even do that?” Your eyebrows furrowed, “It’s better thish way…”

“You fell pretty hard, (Y/N).” Ron mumbled under his breath, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this hung up over anyone.”

“…’sh the voice.” You smiled to yourself, “Eyesh, too. They turn into shtars! Cute. So cute.” You looked at him. “Thish _feeling_ bullshit ish dumb as hell. I mean- the fuck? My life’s jusht been a soap opera. Who the fuck likesh the person who threw them ‘nto a wall? I shoulda just—I dunno. Who knowsh. I shoulda jusht said how I felt when he ‘pologizshed. I mean. He doesn’t date humansh but. I could have… tried.”

Ron chuckled, “Alright. I think that’s enough for tonight.” He pocketed his phone, “Why don’t we get you home?” You hummed in agreement.

 

You barely recalled being wrangled into your room and collapsing onto your bed, so it wasn’t much of a shock to wake up with a migraine. “Damn it, Ron.” You sighed, crossing your arms over your eyes. You appreciated him, but he should’ve stopped you after the first one.. You pulled your phone from your pocket, unsurprised to see it was nearing noon. “Of course.” You opened up the message from the Deputy, relieved to see he’d kindly taken care of things while you were out.

‘ _You should text him today._ ’ Was the closing line. The words made you feel nauseous. Anxious. You probably _should_ but… what would you say, in reality? Not going to happen. This was just something you’d have to regret for the rest of eternity, because no part of you was brave enough to admit that you overreacted. You rolled over in bed, curling up, trying your best to block out the sun glaring disapprovingly at you through the window.

Watching videos underneath the blankets served as a good distraction for the time you were awake. Monster documentaries, mostly. Magic was a curious thing, and you rarely had the time to understand it more than ‘it comes from monsters, refrain from letting it harm you’. Not that some videos gave you anything resembling an education, but it was better than being totally clueless. No leads on how to nullify it, however. You were in the middle of one video when another message crossed your screen.

‘ _Hey, Chief. We just received a message from the Mayor_.’ You sighed. Before you could even type your response, you received a second. ‘ _A ball’s going on next week. One of the Senators is coming_.’

You stared at the screen, before typing, ‘ _I thought that the security for that would be federal.’_ You recalled hearing about it a while back, but it never mattered; you had bigger concerns at the time. If they didn’t need your officers (which, you’d still be sending some, regardless…), then…

‘ _It is. What I meant was, you got an **invite**_ **.** ’ You moaned, laying back down. Chief of Police was as much of a political position as it was a directorial one. Refusing was hardly an option.

‘ _You go.’_

‘ _The invite was for you. I can be your +1 though.’_ Damn it. This probably wouldn’t have anything to do with Ebott’s safety, but you’d probably have to whip up some charts and a speech on how everything was doing. They wouldn’t be inviting you for no reason. It was the worst, when formal events took place in your city. It was just stressful all around. ‘ _Should I confirm?’_

_‘Yeah.’_

_‘Have fun dress shopping.’_

_‘Don’t.’_

You’d planned to stay under the covers for the rest of the day, but you knew you wouldn’t have any other time to go get a gown. Impromptu invites were such an inconvenience. You dragged yourself from the comfort of your bed, nearly stumbling as you stalked around the room, searching for casual clothes to get changed into.

 Today was going to be an ordeal.

 

The following day, it was back to business as usual. You sat at your desk, pulling together a slideshow for the upcoming event when the sound of the door swinging open drew your attention. Ron, as expected, yet this time, he was accompanied by a bright-eyed Miranda. Unusual, but you weren’t displeased to see her. “Hello, Miranda.” You greeted, without taking your eyes off the screen. “Glad to see you’re doing well.”

“I’m much happier to see you!” Miranda walked over, taking a seat in the chair across from you, then sat up, eagerly patting her knees, “So, what did he say?”

A pregnant pause.

“…I’m sorry?” The steady clacking at your keyboard halted, leaving the room uncomfortably silent. Ron shifted a bit in the doorway, rubbing his neck as he shuffled back.

“You know- _Sans._ Didn’t you text him? What did he say?” Miranda’s enthusiasm only emphasized your silent horror. Ron’s attempt at inching out of the room did not go unnoticed.

“What do- Why would I have-?” You cleared your throat, running your hand through your hair, “I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I saw the video! You’re definitely going to date him, aren’t you?” The woman folded her arms, “My hunch is never wrong, you know.”

“…Video.” You sent a vicious glower at Ron, who shrugged apologetically before fleeing the situation, likely back to his office. You pinched the bridge of your nose, mumbling under your breath, “Asshole.”  You took a breath, rubbing your cheek before hesitantly meeting your eyes. “I didn’t text him.”

“…Why not?” The disappointment was palpable.

You sighed for what had to be the millionth time before shrugging halfheartedly. Going with ‘ _I chickened out’_ just didn’t seem like the best option, regardless of how honest it really was. “I’m not… I mean- he… well. It’s practically been a week. He probably doesn’t want to talk with me, Miranda. It’s too late by now.” The vulnerability in your voice made you far too aware of your surroundings. Were you really talking about this right now- in your office? Where you should be focusing on the safety of citizens and not… this? “Besides. I have work to do.”

“How does isolating yourself help you, (Y/N)?” Despite the accusatory undertone, the question still made you think. Did it help? In some ways, perhaps. Nothing to distract you, nothing to lose. Being alone meant maximum efficiency.

“It’s my job, Miranda.”

“It _is not_ your job to deprive yourself of happiness.” You shrugged, before focusing back on the computer, hoping the dismissal would cause Miranda to lose interest. It did not. “It’s about Casey, isn’t it? You said it on the video. You don’t want to try it with him because he’s a monster? You think he’ll kill you or something?”

“I’m not afraid of Sans, if that’s what you’re insinuating.” You rubbed your hand absently. You’d long since gotten over that fear. Sans wasn’t _harmless_ , but… he wasn’t a threat anymore. At least, not to you. Casey would never approve, had he still been alive, but that wasn’t quite it either. You may have been _more_ inclined to do this, if Casey was still here. Even against his bias. It wasn’t that.

“Then what _are_ you afraid of, (Y/N)?”

It was the soul thing. You still couldn’t figure it out in your head. What if you decided to try it, and shared your soul with him, and… he didn’t like what he found there? Getting rejected for the core of your being- everything you ever were- you could handle a lot of things, but… a rejection like that? It… It just wasn’t worth the risk. You couldn’t handle losing something else you cared about. You glanced at Miranda. Even if you could verbalize what was really bothering you, you probably still wouldn’t. This position wasn’t the place for weaknesses and insecurities. You had a duty to attend to, and if that meant depriving yourself of the things you wanted personally, it’s what you’d do. Without question.

“…Nothing.” Steeling yourself, you took a breath and continued to work, “Wonderful seeing you, Miranda. I’ve got work to do.”

Miranda stared for a long moment, before getting up. “Of course, (Y/N). We’ll talk later.” She quietly left the room, leaning against the door way in Ron’s office. Their eyes met.

“So?”

“It’s _bad_.” She confirmed, circling around to lean against the desk, “…And we’re going to help, of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There seems to be a lot of scheming going on.


	18. And Loaded! *

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, it's time for the ball. It goes... well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betcha thought I gave up on SotM, huh? Nope. Just a mega hiatus. Sorry, by the way. I get sad about writing sometimes and then nothing else is even worth it. But SotM's my baby, and it'll be finished, even if it takes a looong time. Anyway! Those who bear with me get skele-sin! So if you're still here, thank you, and enjoy!  
> * THE SEX IS AHEAD. SKELECOCK IS PRESENT, OKAY? Not really full sex, though. Just... hand sex. We'll get all the way to the bonezone some other time.
> 
> This chapter is 'specially dedicated to MightyMouse16, who's comment made me initially start the chapter, and theMonk009, who's repeated interest made me finish it.  
> Thanks guys! Sorry it took so long.

If there was something you were good at, it was building up walls. File upon file, burying yourself in your work until the wall that you felt was crumbling had been fortified ten-fold. You leaned back in your office chair, silently pinching the bridge of your nose as you sighed. After Miranda had left your office the other day, the feelings of being left open and vulnerable hung in the air. Cold. Bare. You… didn’t like it. Like a wound just left against the air. Festering. 

You understood what they were doing, and where they were coming from- fixing your issues with Sans would probably put you at ease- but in a way you resented that. If you relaxed here at work- then what would be the consequence? More mistakes? More deaths? Missing details? You needed that edge. You couldn’t let yourself become complacent- that’d be when Ebott suffered. You leaned your elbows on your desk, pushing your hair back as you exhaled again. This thought process had to stop. Whatever was happening just had to stop and stop right _fucking now._

You closed your eyes, forcing yourself to count the seconds. Either they were agonizingly long, or you were distracted out of your mind. You rubbed your forehead absently. Maybe both. Probably both. You only opened your eyes again when the chime of your cell phone pulled you out of your thoughts. You pulled it into your lap, only sitting up straight when you saw the number. No name attached, but you’d be damned if you didn’t recognize it.

‘OLD MOUNTAIN HEIGHTS. 2:34AM. THE NOTE STUCK WITHIN HIM WAS SMALL… AND SILENT. MHU.’*

“You, again…” You sat up straight, pushing your hair behind your ear. The analytics team had gotten back to you about the trace forever ago, but the investigation into the teen who owned the phone never went far. Just some kid, introverted, unassuming, all things considered. Clearly not a part of some terror organization, or prominent informant so they let them off and told them to be more cautious with their phone. But now…? Things were getting interesting. You set your phone on your desk, returning to the file Riley had sent you earlier.

Old Mountain Heights. The abandoned building where your officers had found that corpse with the message ‘We’re still not done’. The time period given in the text would also fit, as the officers arrived on scene half an hour later than the specified time. Yet… the only known witness was the monster, Loumirra. Who the phone didn’t belong to. You tapped your fingers against the desk, chewing the inside of your cheek as you considered this new development. You’d dismissed it the first time with the riots- there were more important things to do and the tip was about something that was going to happen. But this, if they really had seen something- was evidence, to what was possibly a loose serial killer. It couldn’t be overlooked this time.

It took barely any time at all to get Riley on the line. If anything, when she answered, she seemed to be expecting the call. “Police Chief (L/N). Keep sticking your nose into my business like this and we’ll have to switch titles.”

“I’m sure being Chief Investigator is a riot, Wanda, but the stress levels are just too low for me.” You mumbled, tucking your cell between your ear and your shoulder. Riley half-chuckled on the other end, likely deciphering whether you were serious or not. The moment didn’t linger long though, as you quickly forwarded the text you just received to her. “Remember the MHU kid?”

“The one who tipped about the Fair Riot. Nothing ever came of them, if I remember rightly.” The sound of Wanda clicking through her files made you nod along absently.

“You do. I want detectives on them.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Riley.” You folded your arms, tapping at your desk absently. Maybe you were just agitated with everything in your life lately. Maybe the edge was too much. You were damn tired of being idle. _Something_ in Ebott was getting solved. You couldn’t just… _sit here_ when something like this was staring you in the face. “We both know that murder wasn’t a single case.”

“There’s not much evidence to the contrary. The note implied _later_ murders. Not prior ones.” You appreciated the argument; it was unusual for you to have to justify your decisions. While you and Riley weren’t always on the same page about everything, it was nice when you did get to communicate with her.

“A murder _that_ clean being a first? You _honestly_ believe that?” It wasn’t as if the ‘perfect murder’ was unheard of. Just incredibly unlikely. “Besides, there’s a new dimension to murder with the monsters now. You know it’s harder to find solid evidence for them.”

“…Fine. I see what you’re getting at. Old Mountain probably wasn’t a first for our perp. What’s that got to do with that MHU kid?”

“Just received another tip from them on my overflow cell.” You heard Wanda pause on the other end.

“About Old Mountain Heights?” You nodded subconsciously, and Riley took the silence as confirmation, “We hadn’t released any case details yet.”

“I know. They specifically referenced the note.” The tonal shift was palpable. You could almost envision Riley straightening up in her chair, and that scowl familiar scowl donning her face.

“I’ll put my detectives on them.”

“Loumirra, as well.”

“Of course.”

 

You’d barely realized the hours had passed until your door swung open, letting in the light from the hallway. “You’re still here?” You glanced away from the screen for a split second, scowled, then returned your attention to the reports.

“Naturally.”

“The ball’s tomorrow. Don’t you have to get ready?” You ignored how Ron circled around, glancing over your shoulder at the screen. It wasn’t anything pressing, yet somehow his usual proximity still put you on edge. You supposed that’s what you _wanted_ in the end, but… everything was just disconcerting right now. “Won’t help to do it last minute.” You continued typing, willfully ignoring how he placed his hand in front of the screen. “Chief.”

Ignoring distractions was one of your strong suits. Other than the slight furrow in your brow, you continued on like he wasn’t even there.

Ron sighed. “Chief. Really.” He tapped his foot, quickly withdrawing his phone from his pocket. Nearing 11. Miranda had been texting him all day, to ensure you’d get home at a reasonable time. He’d tried earlier, with similar results but… “(Y/N). What’s the problem?”

You glanced up at him. A chill ran up his spine- he recognized that look. He looked toward the door but knew it was far too late for an escape. As soon as you opened your mouth, he braced himself for scolding, but instead… it was a soft, sort of defeated sigh that left you. “What? Not going to film this, too?”

It took him a moment to register. “…Oh. You’re honestly upset about that? It was only _Miranda._ ” He stepped back, “You know she doesn’t mean any harm. She just wants you to be happy.”

“At the cost of my work. But we’ll get back to _her_.” You saved all the documents, shutting down the computer before standing up. “I don’t take these things lightly, Ron.” You stared at the desk for a moment longer, the silence sharp between you both before you sighed, “Listen… I’m not going to deny what I’ve said.” You folded your arms over your chest, hugging herself slightly, “…About Sans. About…” The word stuck in your throat, “…him. But I’m telling you them because I trust you, Ron. And I trust you’re not going to use them. Get it?”

He walked with you out the door. Did he? Not particularly. “No. Look at me and tell me what you’re afraid of. Why you can’t. If you can be honest with me, we’ll never mention it again.”

You were all too aware of how his voice echoed through the hallways. You knew you were alone this far back in the building, but it didn’t quell your paranoia. “…I _was_ honest with you.” You ran your fingers over your nails. “When I said I was….” Scared. You were terrified out of your wits. Not just about the soul thing. But about the city. About the murders. About the impending race war. About everything. But you couldn’t _show_ any of it. It was all up to you, and it was up to you to _not fuck it up._

This was too complicated. Too difficult.

“Just… Forget about all of this, okay? As far as we’re all concerned, Sans is just another citizen. And nothing’s changed, _okay?_ ”

That wasn’t the answer Ron was looking for, though he hadn’t expected much else. It was probably the only thing he would’ve gotten, considering who he was dealing with. “Just answer this one question for me; if Sans came to you tomorrow, and told you he wanted to be with you, would you do it?”

You chuckled once under your breath. Sans? Coming anywhere? Let alone to you? And to say something as open as that? _To you?_ As if that were even a plausible question. “I don’t make a habit of answering stupid questions. I thought you knew that.”

“It’s hypothetical.” Ron argued, opening up the stations doors, heading into the parking lot. You’d gotten over to your cars, and you watched Ron get into his before you pulled out your key and got into yours.

Once the sound of his engine had faded away and you were left alone in the silence, you scoffed. What a stupid question… If he had the courage to come to you, after all you did? Would you be with him…? “…In a heartbeat.” You mumbled, putting your hand over your chest. You hated that tug of a smile that you couldn’t reject. It just made reality all the more bitter.

 

You woke up late the next day. You rolled over in bed, checking your phone; it was nearing noon. You reluctantly pulled yourself out of bed; the ball wasn’t until much later but there were always preparations to make. If not with your outfit, then tweaks to make to the presentation. Always something to keep you busy. You preferred it that way.

It wouldn’t be the first ball you attended (nor would it be the last, so long as you remained in this position), and the nerves that went along with presenting all your reports had long since faded, but you still couldn’t get out of the habit of working on it until the last possible second. You knew that this ball would likely be about securing the relations between Monsters and the federal government, so it would be an ideal time to present youe idea of a monster-inclusive police force.

You knew you were completely capable of losing track of time while you were working and reworking your speech, so you forced yourself away from your laptop to ensure you had enough time to get ready properly. You never had a problem with dressing up- it was inconvenient ( _especially_ dress shopping)- but you enjoyed finding things that suited you. This year, you’d chosen a navy mermaid tail dress; no sleeves, closed neckline. The silver sequence gave it a touch of color. Night sky. It reminded you of your uniform, and was conservative enough that no one would be distracted; it was a work event after all. Matching your makeup wasn’t particularly difficult- you never tried to be too excessive. You were a Chief, not a fashionista. By the time you’d tamed your hair, your phone was alerting you of the time, and after scooping up your clutch and your thumb drive, you were on your way to the ball.

In the parking lot, you sat in her car, scowling at your phone for what felt like an hour. The impulse to text or call Ron was overbearing; you knew he was going to show up, and it was… childish, to be nervous about walking in alone. You’d done it a million times at this point, but somehow the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you- even for a moment- was… incredibly uncomfortable. It always was. “Grow up.” You hissed at yourself, pushing open the door and nearly cringing at the sound of your heels against the pavement. Not that you didn’t enjoy dressing up, but your days in the Task Force made you… averse to excessive noise. Walking through the door into the main hall was certainly a sight to behold. Shimmering chandeliers, a decked-out hall, large crowds of monsters and humans, all dressed up. They’d really surpassed their usual budget- you supposed it was because of the Senator’s appearance tonight. The high ceiling and bright lights did just enough to hide the security from prying eyes, though, so you figured it was less on appearances and more about practicality. Steeling yourself, you took a breath and stepped into the crowd. None of the faces- human or monster- were familiar, and you were unsure if you were thankful for that, or unnerved by it. The social savvy part of your brain knew that you should be greeting these people- everyone here was important for some reason or another, yet all you could do was acknowledge each of them with a single nod and then make your way over to the tables. Once you’d found your name card, you planted yourself in your seat and busied yourself with reviewing your notecards.

You’d been so absorbed in your task that the slight tug at your hand almost made you snap until you met the familiar friendly face of the ambassador. “Oh. Ambassador.” You felt yourself smile before you could help it; that little purple suit and red bowtie was… adorable. The world simply didn’t deserve Frisk. “It’s good to see you again.”

‘Likewise!’ Frisk signed with a vibrant grin to match, ‘I’m glad you’re here. It’s too bad I don’t see you over Sans’ anymore…’ You felt your smile falter at that. You wished you could express the same sentiment, but… you didn’t want to bother thinking through the implications it would give if you agreed to that. You missed seeing Frisk. ~~And Sans. Especially Sans.~~ But enough to detract from your work? No. You’d never give anything that much of yourself ever again. Not if it was all going to end up the same way.

“I’ve been busy, unfortunately.”  You stated bluntly, sitting up straight and pulling at your dress. You averted your gaze to search through the crowd- why, you were unsure, but it all just seemed to blend together. A mashup of shapes and colors- none that stuck out. Each too… warm. None of the easy blue hue that you despised yourself for even looking for right now. “I’m sure he informed you that he’s off of house arrest. It’s likely we’ll never meet like that again.”

You kept your eyes on the crowd, willing yourself to miss Frisk’s look of disappointment. Only when they started signing once more did you look back at them, ‘Miss Chief?’ Their genuine look made you wish that you hadn’t, ‘Can I ask you something?’

That question is how all of life’s issues started. No. _No._ “What is it, Frisk?” **Goddamn it.**

‘Don’t you ever feel lonely?’

The question was so jarring that you actually paused. Maybe you’d expect something like that from Miranda, or Ron, on a particularly bad day. But Frisk? Someone who wasn’t constantly around you, who didn’t see the things you did to isolate yourself, didn’t see the days you’d just disassociate from life itself and focus single mindedly on work until your body gave out and you crashed at yout desk?

‘I mean… you have this air about you. It’s a command, kind of like Asgore but you just kind of feel… sad.’ Frisk grabbed your hand, holding one of yours in both of theirs. After a moment they let go to continue, ‘I saw it when you came in. People moved out of your way and respect you but they’re not really your friends, are they?’ They looked over their shoulder at the mass of people, ‘Doesn’t that bother you?’

You felt your words catch in your throat, cries of denial bubbling up, but… you couldn’t bring yourself to say any of them. It’s just how you’d been since you entered this position- it was a necessary evil. You couldn’t complain, you couldn’t ever complain. But you hadn’t been truly alone until Casey passed. Were you lonely…? Of course, you were, but until the day you were no longer responsible for Ebott’s safety, it was just something you’d have to bear. Instead of answering, you simply pulled your hand back to your person, fiddling with your clutch as you shook your head.

Frisk’s eyebrows furrowed together. They knew a lie when they heard one. ‘Miss Chief…’ They lingered there for a moment, before sighing. They never thought they’d see someone as closed off as Sans, but Toriel was right. ‘Mom’s here. I think she’d be really happy to see you.’

You nodded, though returned your attention to the note cards on the table. “I’ll speak with her after my presentation.” It wasn’t that you didn’t wish to see Toriel- or Asgore for that matter, he was bound to be around here, undoubtedly- you just didn’t want to do anything that would shake your focus. You weren’t entirely sure if they would, but that risk just wasn’t one you were willing to take presently. Your presentation was scheduled somewhere in the middle of it all- after yours, there’d be an intermission where all the typical ball festivities would take place, and then after an hour, back to business. You never particularly liked politics- especially when it ran this way. Too much grandstanding. Pretending to be something they weren’t, caring about things they truly didn’t. Too much energy wasted on skirting around issues that would be promptly swept under the rug. It was pointless, in the end, but a game you begrudgingly had to be part of.

Frisk nodded, ‘Okay! I’ll tell her you’re here. I can’t wait to see your presentation either, Miss Chief!’ They scampered off, and after being left to your own devices, you sighed. Whatever it was that was testing your patience- you _really_ didn’t appreciate it.

After a short while, Ron and Miranda had made their way over, both to your pleasure and chagrin. Passing the time on your phone helped tremendously (like you’d eat and risk staining your dress before your presentation… and greeting everyone was simply out of the question. Everyone knew who you were, and if they didn’t they would shortly; it wasn’t worth the effort.), yet you still found yourself scanning the crowd periodically. You liked to think you were just idly searching for threats. It put you at ease to think that, at least.

“The royal family is here, you know.” Miranda said, leaning over to glance at your face, “And all their assistants too. You know. The royal scientist and the Ex Royal Guard Captain.” Miranda sipped at her drink, “I think I even saw Mettaton, too-”

“I know what you’re implying, and I don’t care. Quit it.” She was probably wrong, regardless. Entry into this ball required some degree of social prominence (or at the very least, some _relation_ to someone of social prominence…) . Not to mention, he wouldn’t really be into this kind of scene. Why would he? He was covered in stains half the time, and asleep the other half. A ball would be literally the worst place for him.

You hated yourself for even _thinking_ that. You didn’t care. _You didn’t care._

“Huh? I wasn’t implying anything. Who are _you_ talking about?” Miranda smirked behind her glass, a knowing sort of arrogance that made you just scowl and return to your phone.

“Ron, get your wife.”

“She didn’t say anything, though, Chief-”

“ _Get your wife_ or risk demotion.”

Miranda chuckled, a good-natured chime that only served to annoy you, “If you’re thinking about him so much, why not send him a message? I could even do it for you, if you’re too nervous.”

“Ron. Do you recall that thing we talked about? Relay it to Miranda. Now, preferably.” You scrolled through your phone, instead turning your attention to the roar of the rest of the ball’s occupants. The on and off speeches were at least a good break from getting relentlessly teased about something you would’ve preferred to forget.

By the time it was finally your turn to present you were so numb to everything that it seemed to go by in minutes. You’d gone through it a billion times, it was automatic at that point- crime statistics, ECP protocols, what works, what doesn’t, and finally, your proposal for a monster inclusive force. All the funds that’d be required, time it takes to do, its practicality, possible problems, the outweighing benefits and end it all with the expected results. Speeches were nothing, yet you felt… much better once it was over. You returned back to your seat, surprised to find Toriel and Frisk conversing with Ron and Miranda.

As much as you wished it was with the best intentions, something about this felt… suspicious. “Ah! Miss Chief! Your speech was wonderful!” The elegant goat woman turned around, immediately taking your hands within her large clawed ones. “I am so pleased that you are so forward with monster rights! It is no surprise given your help with Papyrus, but I am very touched that you have decided to do this publicly.”

“Not a problem, Toriel.” It was really more about practicality- the only way things were going to get better was by integrating monsters- making them a normal part of everyday life instead of treating them like anomalies. You still had your own concerns, but you knew what needed to be done, and nothing would change if you hesitated. You scoffed at your own thought- as if it hadn’t taken you _months_ to come to that conclusion.

“How come you never introduced us to the Queen, (Y/N)?” Miranda piped up, “She’s so lovely! As is the adorable little Ambassador!” She ruffled Frisk’s hair, smiling at the way the child lit up. Frisk signed something you didn’t quite catch before trotting off.

“It wouldn’t have been appropriate.” You stated with a half shrug, “And Ron’s met Frisk already.” Heavens knows the last thing you needed was for Miranda to embarrass you. Especially in front of Toriel or Asgore.

“ _I_ would’ve liked to meet them!”

“I was trying to save them the trouble.”

“…you can be really mean sometimes, (Y/N).”

“It comes with the territory.” In this case, you felt it was warranted. After harassing you repeatedly about Sans, Miranda should consider herself lucky.

Toriel giggled at the back and forth, “It is very nice to see you having fun, Miss Chief.” Despite the harshness of your words, there was a warm sort of familiarity that she was initially uncertain you were even capable of. It was comforting to see your SOUL wasn’t completely walled off yet.

Surprised, you looked up at the Queen. Is that what this looked like? You shuffled slightly, reorganizing your notecards to keep your hands busy. “…I suppose.” The quiet moment didn’t last long, as Miranda abruptly stood up.

“Oh! I- I actually have to use the restroom. Chief, you mind helping me with my dress? I’d get it myself but-” She gestured to her stomach, “You know.”

You sighed. “…Sure.” With a brief nod goodbye, you followed Miranda through the busy hall, getting through the bustling group of people and toward the empty hallway. It was one of the further bathrooms- which you both understood and were wary of at once, and after a second, Miranda paused, causing you to stop walking. “What is it?”

“I… think I’m gonna be sick…” You watched as Miranda hustled forward, and scrambled to follow after, startled at the sudden shift in behavior. She seemed fine minutes ago (then again, you’d never been pregnant, so… what did you know?) 

“Miranda, the bathroom’s the _other_ way!” You caught Miranda by the hand, hoping to at least guide her in the correct direction before the woman pushed you forward, and abruptly the door closed behind you.  It took a moment to register that you’d just been duped. “ _Are you fucking kidding me?_ ” You huffed, feeling around blindly for a wall, or the door, or a light switch. Anything to shed some light on the situation. You looked around the dark room, blinking to get your eyes acclimated when you paused, wondering if those two bright dots were spots in your vision, or if they really just did what you thought they did.

 “pretty tough getting a _handle_ on the situation, huh?” Your breath caught. They didn’t. You _knew_ they did, but they _didn’t._ How fucking _dare they?_ Pretending you didn’t hear it, you continued scouring the wall for anything to get you out of this situation- rejecting the urge to swear as you groped the wall. How couldn’t you have seen this coming? The moment you saw Miranda and Ron talking with Frisk and Toriel you should’ve skedaddled your ass literally anywhere else. Nothing good was going to come of that and you _knew_ it.  “(y/n).” You cringed at the voice. They way he said your name. It was so… open and vulnerable. The feeling of his hand on your shoulder made you freeze, against your better judgement, “i gotta tell you somethin’.”

You felt your hand slide off of the wall, and you turned your head slightly. You never known a room could be so silent. Just breaths. No humming of overhead lights, even the ball was distant, and may as well have been a memory. Just quiet. His boney fingers squeezed your shoulder just slightly, a reminder he was actually there and you weren’t dreaming right now. His bright eyes and fingers on you were the only things keeping you grounded in this reality and… you weren’t sure how to feel about that. “mind turnin’ around?”

It took more energy than you ever thought it would. An action that you prepared for, for what felt like an eternity, took a millisecond to complete. “Alright.” The deadpan of your voice surprised even you, “I’m turned around.” You studied him in the dark- after your eyes adjusted, the light from his eyes lit up his cheekbones, and a slight bit of his telltale smile, but beyond that, everything just faded out into the void.

“yeah.” Sans agreed, searching you for—something. What, you didn’t know, and you weren’t sure if he even found it within you, “you are.” He took a breath, “look (y/n); i’m sorry. ‘bout what i said.”

His apology made you pause. _He_ was sorry? For _what?_ You had been the one to avoid him! You went through your memories, trying to decipher what this could possibly be about- the SYNC? The dream? Those weren’t _his_ fault (at least, they were equally as much as they were yours). “What?” Your voice left you as a strained whisper, something that sounded foreign, barely recognizable to even yourself.

“ _stars,_ the dream, (y/n). when i called it a one night stand. i didn’t mean to hurt-” He was cut off by the huff of laughter that came from you. He was so surprised that you took that moment to speak before he could voice his confusion.

“You thought I was still mad about that?” You shook your head, unable hide that self depreciating smile that donned your face. In a way, you were relieved, and yet… you were still… terrified. “I… Overreacted.” You suddenly found your tongue was tied as you tried to explain. He deserved to know, after you left so abruptly. He explained what he knew to you- just like you wanted- and you ran. Like a coward. An explanation in return was the least you could do for him “Look, I… I just- Felt. And I wasn’t sure what to do about it. About _you._ ” You felt his hand slip off of your shoulder, and the dark closet seemed so much colder- _consuming-_ without it. “That soul thing- SYNC? I couldn’t… I mean… I was just…” You looked down, folding your arms, hugging yourself as you looked away, “Scared.” You hated how it sounded when it left your mouth. The words would seem out of character, if you hadn’t experienced it firsthand. After a moment you sighed, “So, I left. And avoided you.” You pushed your hair back habitually as you kept talking. “I know it must have been hard telling me about… All of it. The resets. Our souls. And I just left because I couldn’t deal with any of it.” Admitting it aloud was both freeing and incredibly unnerving. It was true- and because of that, he needed to hear it but… weakness didn’t suit you. “…I’m so sorry, Sans.”

The resulting silence was overbearing, but you denied the urge to fidget. You deserved, without question, whatever it was he was going to say to you, and you’d listen dutifully. It was only right. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been so anxious- romance was never a strong suit, and apologizing even less so. You’d understand completely if he was pissed off after what you must have forced him through. “you were scared.” The way he’d repeated it was… so hollow. Blank. Unreadable. You nodded, despite the darkness. “…why?”

At that, you smiled. A solitary, sad smile. A cold edge creeping back into your voice as you chuckled humorlessly, “I’m not sure my soul is something you’d want to bear.” Hell, you barely wanted to- you just didn’t have a choice when it came to your own. ‘The things I’ve seen- and _done-_ aren’t…” You tailed off, trying to reject old memories, to force away the burning of old scars, “They aren’t…”

“can’t believe you’re _this_ fuckin’ difficult.” His hands were warm against your skin- something you were surprised by every time, “doncha think i _know that?_ ” The bite of his words contrasted with the soft touch of his hands on your skin, “i thought you _hated me._ i thought you’d never want to see me again. i thought-” Shit. He didn’t really _know_ what he thought. “i thought i _missed you._ ” His words were leaving faster than he could untangle them in his thoughts. If this was really it- that there’d never be anymore resets and this was the first and last time he’d ever meet you… He could’ve missed his chance forever. And that thought unnerved him. “stars, i thought-”

You leaned down, pressing a long kiss against his forehead. “I’m sorry.” When you pulled back, you couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Your eyes…” So, they didn’t only do stars. Hearts, too. Who knew. You placed your hands on his cheekbones, raising his face up to yours. You recalled kissing his teeth this way in that dream; you recalled vividly what that felt like, and you were glad it felt familiar now.

Sans barely pulled back, a ghost of a phrase murmured through a shallow breath, “whaddabout my-?” He never finished the question. Once he felt your lips on his teeth again, it completely overrode the importance of anything else. His hands went through your hair, gently, pulling you closer, anything that’d let him lick your lips, to feel your body pressed against his, was not only welcome but highly encouraged. Yours was a warmth he’d barely gotten familiar with, yet missed intensely in the time he’d been away. Stars, this felt like home. Somewhere he could be until the end of time, get lost within forever. A heat that emanated from deep in his SOUL that he used to despise, and now… wouldn’t trade the world for.

He had no idea when your hair had fell from whatever was keeping it up (had he done that?), but he was content to run his hands through it, and to listen to that small pleased hum you gave whenever he did so. Eventually his hand wandered from your hair to your neck, over your shoulders; sweet caresses you’d been much too hesitant (or perhaps _hostile)_ to accept any time else, but now? He had so much he wanted to give. So many things he wanted to do to make your breath catch and make you stammer out his name. To make you hold him, to make your SOUL burn so vibrantly the way _his_ did, every time he saw you smile, or heard those rare laughs.

Your hands had long since dropped from his cheeks, down onto his clavicle, causing chills to run through his body. Even through the bulky clothes, your touch seemed so clear, as if nothing had ever been between them in the first place. He followed your arm down, clasping his hand around yours, guiding it down to the buttons of his vest. He’d wanted out of it the minute he put it on initially, but now he had a much more pressing reason why. To his surprise, you easily undid them, without a moment’s pause, either, immediately pushing it off his shoulders and getting to work on loosening his tie.

“Didn’t think ties were your thing.” You mumbled between kisses, loosening it just enough to undo the buttons of his dress shirt.

“nah. but i’m sure _you’ll_ be _tie_ ght.”

“What did I say about the puns?” You groaned- this one distinctly of agony.

Sans chuckled, leaning his forehead against yours, “you’re smilin’.”

“I’m rethinking this entire thing, honestly.” You mumbled, pressing a kiss between his eyes, gently wrapping your fingers around one of his floating ribs. You couldn’t help but smile at the way he huffed, a slight moan leaving him when you squeezed him. ~~God, he was cute~~.

“i- hah- think you’re just _ribbin’_ me.” He did his best to reject the urge to squirm- to get you to move, let you go at your own pace- but… _stars,_ it was unbearable. It wasn’t just his SOUL burning- every inch of him wanted be touched by you- wanted to touch _you._

“Only a little.” Your deadpan made him laugh despite himself. And to think he used to dislike that part of you. He wasn’t entirely sure when his views had shifted, but he was certainly glad they did. His mind blanked a bit when you slid your hand from the front of his sternum back toward his spine. You tilted her head a bit, walking your fingers up his spine, watching closely for every little reaction. It was dark, but the glow from his face lit the room just enough for you to gage his reactions. You wrapped your fingers around his thoracic vertebrae, using your thumb to rub the rigid bones. 

His sudden arch immediately made you stop.

“…You okay?” You asked, searching for any sign of pain or discomfort- you hadn’t found any, but…

“ _yeah,_ holy shit. _yes.”_  He didn’t know when or how his breathing got so ragged, but he knew he _really_ didn’t want it to stop. “that was good. real good.” He thought you’d only been following what you did in the dream initially, but apparently, you were a much faster learner in person. After a quiet sigh, you nodded, set at ease by his praise. Your hand slipped back between his shirt, trailing down his spine, stopping every third vertebrae to rub them, admiring the way he arched into your touches, and the way his breathing picked up. How his typically languid and lackadaisical behavior just seemed to vanish when you slowed down, as the moment you did, you were covered in skeleton kisses, light bites just under your jaw, and that unique fizzle of his tongue when he dragged his tongue across your skin.

It was… distracting, to say the least.

His hands were in a class all their own, lingering at your hips, kneading them- almost absentmindedly, it seemed- yet somehow his slow, deliberate touches were enough to make you wish you’d chosen a less… restrictive dress. Now that you thought about it, he seemed to have that effect on you. Your fingers slipped down into his ilium, walking over his iliac crest, watching with a muted bemusement as he shuddered. He made _incredible_ noises. Each low, like he wanted to hush them, but in the end, they were long, drawn out deep tones that still resonated within you. Echoes of moans that _had_ to be inappropriate for this location, but you’d gone too far to quit just yet.

“fuck-” He’d said it before he could really register why. His body knew, though. It’d been a while since anything had worked him up so much that his magic had formed on its own, but hell if he could stop it. And once his cock had formed, he immediately missed his old basketball shorts because these pants were _reeal fuckin’ tight._ “(y/n)- _c’mon_ , you- you gotta-”

You blinked, surprised at the urgency in his tone. Not to say you didn’t like it, but it was certainly… new. You ventured a look and couldn’t help but stare owlishly at the vibrant light at his crotch. You _knew,_ yet somehow it was… somehow, even odder to witness. “…Guess I could cut you some slack. This once.” You hated the way your face burned- how you got suddenly shy when you’d been completely at ease this entire time.  Lingering at his zipper, Sans’ hands covered yours gently for a moment, before pushing them slightly aside, undoing his pants with an ease you somewhat envied. It was probably better this way- you would’ve undoubtedly fumbled around and made yourself even more nervous in doing so.

Taking him into your palm was surprisingly… easy. Both everything and nothing like you expected all at once. His cock was normal, all things considered, albeit made of a vibrant blue magic that had the same unique tingle that his tongue did. Already slick with precum, dragging your hand from tip to base was easy and you were immediately rewarded with a relieved groan. “shit…” Sans huffed, burying his face in your shoulder, “holy fuck…”

“I haven’t even done anything, yet.” You mumbled against his mandible, pressing a kiss there before giving him a light squeeze.

“no- it’s just- _you.”_ He nuzzled the bare flesh of your shoulder, pressing his teeth against it briefly, “stars, just _feeling you._ here. after thinking you-” He exhaled, stopping himself before he got into mumbling incoherently. “ ‘s nothing.” He brushed his hand down your side, “just glad, ‘s all.” You didn’t say anything in response, but the way you leaned your head against his told him enough.

He trailed his hand down your thighs- the tight form of the mermaid tail dress was fitting, but he was frustrated it left no room for him to get his hands between. What he wouldn’t give to just shortcut you out of here, onto his bed, where he could strip you down, run his tongue between your breasts, down your navel. Where he could bite your thighs, leave his marks all over you, for however long he wanted, however long _you_ wanted- where any other thought or concern would vanish into nothing. Where he could press deep into you, rock into you, until the boundaries of your bodies faded just like the lines of their SOULs did when you SYNCed.

He felt his cock twitch at the thought.

The throbbing was the only thing he could focus on- that and _you_. Anything else- the ball just outside, the problems of Ebott City, _time,_ was a secondary concern. He’d barely realized he began thrusting into your hand, heedless of anything that didn’t push him toward that orgasm he was chasing. And when he finally did? He came hard, something intense and deep, that took his breath away and had him clutching onto you with all he had.

He slumped against you, absently mumbling something along the lines of ‘holy fuck, that was amazing’ but he wasn’t in the position to care much for enunciation. After his senses returned to him, he pulled back, leaning up to press his teeth against your lips once more.

And you giggled.

His SOUL couldn’t take this.

It was such an innocent sound for someone was constantly stoic, and yet such a sound was made exclusively for _him._ “wow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vis, your kinks are showing. Fun fact, Chief was initially supposed to be super submissive, but every time I write her, she ends up domming somehow. Oh well.
> 
> And! By the way! Would you be interested in sending requests!? Because I want to do them! For practice! About anything! At all!!


	19. Law

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, some serious issues arise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, if you're gore sensitive, I'd probably say be cautious. Around the time you meet with Riley.  
> Y'know. I don't think it's too bad, but what do I know?

You sighed as your laugh tapered off. It’d been a long time since anyone looked at you like that, even longer since you were okay with it. Though, you couldn’t deny that his enamored look was… a little embarrassing. “Well…” You mumbled softly, leaning your cheek against his skull, “That happened.”

“mm.” Sans glanced down, chuckling slightly at the glow all over your hand. And dress. Oops. “you, uh- wanna do something ‘bout that?” He reached up, pulling the dangling switch, shedding light into the supply closet.

You blinked rapidly letting your eyes adjust to the sudden change, and once your eyes stopped protesting, you squinted disbelievingly at the cord, “No wonder I couldn’t find the damn thing…” You wanted to ask how long he’d been in here for, if he’d known that, but decided that, in the end, it didn’t really matter. You picked up one of the folded rags, cleaning up the glowy remnants of that fiasco. You swore that certain parts of your dress shone just a bit brighter than the others but… nothing really to be done about that now.

“pffft…”

“…What?”

“i dunno, chief… maybe y’should think about-”

“Stop.”

“-stain in here.”

“There aren’t enough words in the world to describe my disappointment in you.”

 “oh cum on, chief. that ‘ne was good.”

“It wasn’t. And that was even worse.”

 “everyone’s a critic.”

“Maybe it’s a lack of perspective.” After refolding the rag and setting aside, you tucked your hair behind your ear. It’d be a waste of time trying to fix it without a mirror- and you knew no matter what excuse you’d make, Ron and Miranda would jump on this opportunity to tease you in a heartbeat. At Sans’ curious look, you found yourself abruptly looking away, a burn on your face you knew would undermine any biting comment you wished to make. “Maybe I’d find it funny if I was in your position.”

Sans stared at you.

“…stars.” The calm that had washed over after his orgasm had immediately fizzled away. He had to wonder if this was reaction was solely because of your soul connection or if your back and forth would have made him respond like this, even without it. He set his hand on your arm, running it up to your shoulder. “ ‘d be happy to put you in it.”

Your lips against his teeth were short-lived, to both of your annoyance. A bang on the door had you scrambling away from each other, before you cleared your throat and unlocked the door. On the outside, Ron stood, tapping his foot, eyebrows knitted together, immediately sending alarm bells through your head. “We’ve got an issue, Chief.”

It was never short of amazing, Sans mused. He’d seen you do it before, the way your demeanor could shift in an instant, but while you were so disheveled and obviously unprepared? It really reminded him of who you were. Your importance. “What do you mean, an issue?” Sans straightened his clothes, listening idly to the discussion while he rebuttoned his shirt.

“As in, the Fed’s director is assuring everyone to stay calm right now. I called in more units while you were-” Ron looked pointedly as Sans before hiding a chuckle behind a cough, “Busy. But seriously. Riley’s here. Right now. And she needs to talk to you.”

You paused as you mentally flipped through every possibility. They needed your officers? They’d been very specific in saying that the security was covered, when they invited you. After a moment, you shook your head- sticking around here wouldn’t make things go over any smoother. “We need to hurry.” You turned around, quickly redoing Sans’ tie and then leading him back out to the main hall, in step with Ron.

“We’re essentially in quarantine. No one leaves.” Ron explained briefly. “The FPS is going through the attendance list now, but everything’s been hectic.”

You mentally stored that information, but made little more than a hum to acknowledge him. “And the Royal Family?”

“Accounted for. Though...” Ron shoved a hand in his pocket, “To say they’re shaken would be an understatement.”

“Naturally.” Nearing the table they’d all been seated at earlier, you took note of how all the monsters huddled together. And in the middle of it all were Frisk and Miranda. It was a spectacle, how trusting monsters were. How willing they were to include strangers. But, it was also comforting. Miranda was being looked out for, by people she’d only just met. Between Undyne (who had several spears ready…) and Asgore, this was probably one of the better places to be. “Well. Go on.”

“what? y’mean me?”

“Who else would I be talking to?” You nodded toward the group, tilting your head slightly as you looked over him. Still a complete mess. But… a mess you were willing to deal with. “There are… matters I have to attend to. Stay here.” At the skeptical look you received you quickly found yourself setting a displeased hand on your hip. You had no idea of what the problem really was yet, but it was severe enough that the entire hotel was being sanctioned, for the time being. The magnitude of that response told you that you really didn’t want people (especially ones you liked) wandering around. Not that Sans wasn’t capable enough in his own right, but… it wasn’t something you wanted to risk right now. “…Please.”

 “well, since ya asked so nicely.” You only realized you’d never let go of his hand until he’d pulled it away and into his pocket. “i’ll be here when you’re done, ‘lright?”

You watched him join the others, despite yourself. Like a lock that refused to budge until you could confirm that everything you had left to care about was safe in one place. “Better be.” You exhaled, before straightening your posture and weaving through the crowd.

The room was heavy. You immediately recognized the metallic scent that hung in the air. The line of impeccably dressed service members told you that you were definitely in the right place; after briefly flashing your badge and slipping past them, meeting Riley in the middle of it all told you why the ball was on lockdown.

You’d seen gore. But there was just something surreal about this. A woman face down, her lower intestines piled at her side, blood still running onto the floor. The bright yellow dress she’d donned was marred, the jewels she’d adorned still pristine and untouched. The scarf twisted elegantly around her neck just cascaded to the side. Her face twisted into that of agony, fear. A plea, begging not to die alone. And perhaps, shock. Hands clutching at that gash, in vain. It all was just sort of… still. Peculiar.

“(Y/N).” Wanda’s footsteps at your side brought you from your observations. One look at you, and Wanda’s eyebrow immediately quirked, “Looking a little rougher than usual.”

Reflexively, you smoothed your hair, before shrugging passively. “Busy day. What’d you find?”

Content to let it go, Riley folded her arms, “Not much, so far.” She sent a terse look toward the door, before lowering her voice. “No one’s willing to talk.” Before you could even open your mouth to voice her question, Riley shook her head. “They barred me from interrogating the attendees. None of the Service will talk to me. They’re completely stonewalling me, here.” The frustration in Riley’s sigh was palpable. And relatable. “I tried front desk security to access the cameras, but they refused to give it up without an affidavit.”

While you understood the hotel’s concerns in being included in a homicide investigation, it struck you as overbearingly suspicious that they would even attempt that. Though, considering this woman was face down in one of the innumerable dressing rooms in this hotel, it was unlikely that there’d even be much to glean from that footage, even if she had obtained it. Not to mention how many hours it’d take to skim through today’s footage, alone. Though it was always better to have. “Okay. Fine. Next question. Who is this?”

“Wish I could tell you. No identification on her, and from what they did tell me, everyone who was attending is in the hall right now.” She scoffed, before mumbling under her breath, “If they’re even being honest.” Riley kneeled down beside the woman, eyebrows furrowing as nudged the scarf wrapped around her neck, “Marks are peculiar, though. We can’t be positive without the autopsy, but I’m fairly certain it wasn’t the stab wound that killed her, but strangulation.”

“So, was the stab wound post mortem, then?”

“Hard to say. Could be before or soon after.” You glanced around the room- spacious and… foreboding in it’s own way. The carpet was red, the walls were red, all accented with gold. Mirrors from wall to wall. It was inevitable that this woman had to watch her own struggle. Tragic. “And we searched for bloodstained footprints. Since there were none, the attack had occurred from behind. I called my analysts to search for fibers in the carpet, but this is a public dressing room. Hundreds of people had to have been in and out, today alone.”

“…Blood under her nails?” You knew you were grasping at straws, here. Riley was thorough, if nothing else.

“Checked. Until the DNA can go to a lab, we’ve got nothing.” The detective stood up, rubbing her shoulder absently. “I thought you could try getting through the Director’s skull.”

“You couldn’t?” You both sauntered toward the door, the room’s quiet hum only accentuated by Riley’s uncharacteristic silence at the question.

“…He’s one tight lipped bastard.” She put her hands behind her back, “Besides… I hate to admit it, but you’ve got more pawns, in this department.”

You paused.

“…They’re covering it up.” You weren’t entirely sure if you were intending it to be a question, or if it was a realization. There were way too many questions raised by that thought. It stressed you out just considering that path.

“We can’t rule it out.” You recognized that disdain in her voice. “Just get something out of him. We’re at a standstill like this.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

 

Finding Director Hugh was much easier said than done. He was someone who was easily in and out of crowds (though, that was to be expected, considering his line of work), a plain man, all things considered. Once you caught sight of him, you had literally grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. “Director Hugh.”

“Police Chief (L/N), was it?” The man turned around, scanning you in a manner you could only describe as appraisal. “Your speech was very impressive.”

If only you’d had the patience for empty flattery. Tailing him for a good ten minutes had worn any pretense of manners into the dirt. “Don’t stall. You know exactly why I’m talking to you.”

The façade had cracked, and the ice man beneath emerged. “I’m going to have to ask that you keep your voice down.” He turned around to face you fully. “I’m afraid what you’re asking about is strictly confidential. The finer details are constrained to only a select few.” The ease with which the phrases rolled off his tongue, and in such quick succession, you could infer that they were practically second nature to him.

“Yes. I’m sure that explains why all your service members are silent.” You glanced over your shoulder, before meeting his gaze directly. “It was you.”

Hugh stepped back, shaking his head. “No.” He steeled himself once more, taking a breath before repeating, “No. Of course I didn’t. I had no part in that woman’s death.” You watched him closely. His arms folded squarely across his chest, the way his feet were planted. His eyes, how they stayed locked on yours, resolutely. And you could tell he knew you were watching for it. Anyone trained like you both were would be.

You set your hand on your hip. “The email you sent me, specifying for only your force to be present, their refusal to cooperate with anyone… the fact that only your squad had access to the invitees list, and that woman is mysteriously unaccounted for… I have more than enough reasonable suspicion to detain you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I’m considering it, unless you’d like to start making yourself look a lot less suspicious right about now.” You narrowed your eyes before sighing, “I can guarantee you the High Court will be a lot less forgiving than I am.”

Hugh sighed- more of a defeated one, than one of any real concern, “I’m sure that stubborn nature of yours has served you well in your position. Alright. That woman is- was- the Senator’s mistress. It’s why she’s absent from the list. She was never supposed to be here.”

“…Sounds like a motive, if I’ve ever heard one.”

“You’d think that. But the Senator’s husband knew. It was more about avoiding media attention, if nothing else. Other than that though, I can’t tell you anything else about her.” The tension in his demeanor slowly ebbed away, as his arms dropped to his sides.

“What about that exclusivity?”

“More of command thing. It’s easier to have one unified team in terms of security, than split ones with different modes of operation. You have to know that.”

“I worked jointly with the Task Force for several years. I’m not convinced.” You scanned him once more. You saw too many parallels to yourself. To Wanda. To Thomas. Everyone you’d ever looked up to, and aspired to be like. He was curt, sure, but a murderer? Probably not. “But… I don’t think you’re lying. Level with me, Hugh. The hell’s going on here?”

This all wasn’t for nothing. This entire ball couldn’t have been a weak coverup to murder some Senator’s mistress. It’d be… excessive and frivolous. And… to what end? Hugh blinked, before gesturing toward the door with his shoulder. After stepping outside on the balcony, he reached into his pocket, and lit a cigarette, offering one up in earnest, to your surprise. You shook your head, before just watching the cars in the distance speed by, the sound of the traffic starkly contrasting the silence just indoors. “We can’t let this murder get out.” He took a drag, seeming to contemplate his words. “Ever.” He glanced at you, “That Chief Investigator’d never listen. Too gung-ho. Naïve. But I think you’ll understand, (L/N).”

Perhaps it was his resigned tone, or the smell of smoke making you nostalgic, but you found yourself hanging on his every word.

“This ball was public knowledge. Every part of it has been televised, and is being reported on, in real time, as we speak. We don’t have the luxury of admitting our mistakes. The Senator’s appearance here demands the country’s finest security, and someone is dead.”

It seemed sickening, at first. The thought that this woman’s death had to be swept under the rug for the sake of the Federal Protective Service’s reputation, but you were still following, however upsetting the truth was. If the knowledge that they screwed up was released, that someone close to the Senator had been murdered- outside threats would be scouring every nook and cranny for breaches. Hell, it was probably hectic in their ranks right now. You could only imagine how stressed Hugh was, trying to figure out where the hole in their security was. 

“I see on your face that you get it.” Hugh flicked his ashes off the ledge, “I’m not asking you to let this go for my sake.”

 “What you’re asking me to do isn’t easy.” You folded your arms and suddenly wished you’d taken him up on that cigarette. You knew your choice was made for you. This murder and all its details had to disappear. Even if you made a ruckus about it, federal authority would step in, and they’d make it disappear. Cover ups weren’t new, but this would be a first for you. “This doesn’t sit right with me.”

“It never will.” The statement was so cold and robotic, you almost wanted to be offended that he had the gall to even try to say that. But somewhere inside, you knew it had to bother him, as well. The fact that this had to be routine for him, was… sad. No one who worked in justice or protective services would want this.

“I want all the details, at least.” You knew you’d never be able to file them anywhere officially, or act on them directly, but, peculiarly enough, you still felt responsible. Someone had to remember it.

He raised an eyebrow, “I’m not supposed to.”

“…Ebott’s my city. I should know.” It was the only justification you could give, and somehow… it worked. Maybe he could recall when he had such a passion about his work. Maybe he admired it.

“There aren’t as many as you think. The Senator stepped in to find her like that, and immediately came to me. Before Riley arrived, a note was removed from the scene. Some barely legible scrawl shoved into the woman’s scarf. It’s long gone now, but it said something along the lines of ‘closer than you think’. We’re unsure if it’s politically motivated…” He frowned as he looked down at all the bustle below, “For how violent and deep that stabbing was, it was one of the cleanest I’ve ever seen. It’s particularly unsettling.”

Well damn if that wasn’t familiar. You’d never be able to use it officially, but Hugh had just unwittingly gave you a clue on something that had been plaguing this city for months. “I need that attendance list.” You turned to look at him, unperturbed by the doubt on his face. He was already pushing it by informing you of things that needed to vanish. “Nothing else in writing. Just the list.” You sighed, shuffling your weight to one side, “I’ll even address the reporters downstairs, and corroborate whatever decoy you’re using to cover this up. I just need that list.”

Hugh nodded without hesitation. “Consider it sent.” The attendance list was a small price to pay in order to make this as convincing as possible. After snuffing out his cigarette, Hugh turned around, “Best not to keep them waiting. I’ll fill you in on the way down.”

 

Cameras. So many cameras, at every angle you looked, people bustling to shove microphones in yuor face and pelting questions at you. You were used to it, by now, but it never really got easier.

“Police Chief (L/N)! Why wasn’t the police force more prepared in preventing this matter?” Oh, how you wanted to bitch at him. You knew once you agreed to do this for Hugh, that your officers would be taking a hit for the FPS’s sake. And you didn’t like it.

“As far as threats go, we have to take each and every one seriously, and dedicate time to assess the viability of each. The officers of Ebott are set on protecting this city and everyone in it, at all times. It’s a big job, and every one of us has to step up. However,” You knew that wasn’t answering the question, and especially wasn’t what they wanted to hear. They wanted someone to blame, it’s how it always went.  “I take full responsibility for the fault in security today. This incident would have been prevented with a little more foresight on my part. I apologize to not just the Senator, or the guests in attendance today, but the entirety of Ebott. You placed your trust in me to keep you safe. I will do everything in my power to prevent this from happening again.”

 The bustle died down the slightest bit, and you took the opportunity to continue speaking, “Despite my failures, my officers have succeeded in apprehending the suspect. He is currently in our custody. No injuries or casualties have been reported, and the man appears to have been working alone.” You observed the gazes of all the audience. “At this time, our guests are free to return home safely. Thank you.” With that, you left the stage, only to be followed by the Senator herself, addressing the issue.

You weren’t interested in listening. You just returned to the table where the Royal Family, Miranda and Ron were all staying. And you were immediately met with looks from all of them. You knew they all had to be watching. Listening. And none of them could ever know what happened. As far as they were concerned, this truly was your fault.

‘Miss Chief… is everything… okay?’ Frisk hesitantly signed, shuffling out of the group to stand in front of you, ‘No one’s hurt…?’ Their usual calm countenance noticeably missing as they looked around the room, perhaps checking on all the monsters present.

“Everyone is fine.” You pushed your hair away from your face before folding your arms habitually. “It’s all fine-”

“Are you CRAZY?!” The tall fish woman stepped up, pulling Frisk protectively behind her back, but Alphys quickly scampered up, grabbing Undyne’s arm before she could advance any further. “The hell do you mean ‘It’s all fine’?!”

“U-Undyne, calm d-down!” Alphys’ soft voice barely phased her, but you just lifted your hand, dismissing her attempts to placate her.

“No. She’s right to be upset.” Taking responsibility like this was your job, and you’d never give it up over some misplaced blame but… some moments were more trying than others, without doubt. You watched Undyne unhook herself from her girlfriend’s grasp before marching right up to you. Undyne was… much taller than you remembered her being. You refrained from flinching when she pointed a sharp finger at your chest.

“Cut that shit out! Do you think things would’ve been ‘fine’ if Frisk got hurt? Or ASGORE?” The points she was raising would’ve been valid, considering. “You aren’t even keeping your own human senators safe, what good are you?”

You clasped your hands behind your back, taking the moment to calm yourself, “There’s no accounting for some things.” You glanced at all the concerned faces looking back at you- and Undyne’s deep scowl left no room for excuses or explaining. Not that you were particularly looking to do either. “As I said, I do apologize. You’re free to leave whenever you’d wish. If it helps, I can arrange for a unit to escort you, as well.” Heavens knows enough of your officers were roaming around outside because of this mess. The amount of reports you were going to get in on this was already making your head hurt.

You could see that Undyne was going to argue, but it was cut short by Sans stepping over, putting his hand on your forearm, “heeey, let’s cool it, huh? best not to jump the gun, just cuz we’re not seein’ eye-to-eye, right?” Undyne’s glower didn’t budge, but it was completely undermined by the chuckles emanating from Toriel and Miranda in the background. “people make mistakes, ‘dyne. let it go.”

“Yes. Sans is correct. What matters most is that we are safe, and together.” Asgore placed a large, clawed hand on Undyne’s shoulder. Commanding, yet still gentle in his touch and direction. Alphys interlaced her claws with Undyne’s webbed hands.

“S-sometimes things just go wrong, Undyne…” Alphys pushed up her glasses with her free hand, stammering slightly when Undyne squeezed her hand back. It was nice to have her. That she knew what she’d done, and could still forgive her… Love her, even.

“Yeah. Well.” Undyne scoffed, “Should still know better. For you guys, you know?” She huffed, before shaking her head. “I’m getting a drink. Come on, Alphy.” The two wandered off, and Frisk scratched their head thoughtfully.

‘I’m going to go check on them.’ After scampering off, those remaining shared looks.

“Do not judge Undyne too harshly. She is simply passionate.” Asgore said with a fond chuckle, “She has always been that way.”

“It’s fine…” You folded your arms, but obviously had your mind elsewhere. As wild as this day was, you could only think about getting to your office and pouring over that invite list. The serial killer was in here somewhere. Had been in here somewhere. That list was your suspect list and the longer you waited, the more time was being wasted.

“Chief?” Ron’s rough tap on your shoulder drudged you from your thoughts. When you met his gaze, you knew there was something pressing on his mind. You still hated that you could recognize his looks so easily. You gave Sans’ hand a slight squeeze before taking an aside with your deputy. “What the hell was all that? You’re just going to act like Director Hugh didn’t just throw you under the bus?”

It was not any more pleasant to hear it in such blatant terms. “Do you honestly think I’d take it like that if it wasn’t for a reason?” You exhaled, the only sign of stress you’d let yourself show in such a public place. “We can’t talk about this. Drop it.”

“That fucking snake.” Ron paced back and forth, the only action keeping him from marching his way over to the director to give him a piece of his mind, “I can’t believe they’re just going to hide this. And then blame you! Aren’t you going to- I mean… Can’t you do something, Chief?”

The look you gave him said it all.

“Well, what about Riley? She’s not a federal employee, she can-”

“No.” Your tone dropped, the icy gaze you typically reserved for work chilled his spine, stopping him in his tracks, “As far as we’re concerned a single shooter was staking out the place. We caught him. And that’s all that happened. It was an oversight on my part. And no one else’s. Understand?”

Ron sighed. But the message was received, loud and clear.

 

The ball cleared out quickly after that. Many of the guests were eager to return home or to their hotels. You waited at the table, overseeing those who wished to be escorted or have some form of extra security on their way back. To your surprise, Sans waited patiently at the table as well, snoozing in the chair while everything bustled around him. You told him repeatedly he was free to go back with Toriel, or Frisk, but he just smiled at all your protests and lounged in the chair, readying himself to stay for the long haul. It was… pretty touching, really.

“That’s the last of them, Chief.” Ron sauntered up, pulling at his bowtie absently. “All units are on their way back to the station.” At his voice, Miranda looked up, glad to finally be able to go home. “Everyone ready to get out of here?” Ron took Miranda’s hand and you stood, stretching as you did so. A single glance toward the suspiciously silent skeleton told you that he was out like a light… though you hadn’t really expected much else.

“As usual.” Your sigh was only a ruse; the slight smile that followed completely erased any pretense of annoyance there could’ve been. You easily lifted him, before joining your friends on the trek out.

“By the way…” Miranda hummed innocently, “You guys were in that supply closet for a while. Anything interesting happen?”

Just when you thought you’d escaped it.

“Oh my god. Don’t.” Some part of you was still mortified that they even dared to do what they did; it was completely inappropriate and unwarranted. Yet… you couldn’t truthfully say you were unhappy with the results, either.

“I mean, that isn’t a no, is it?” Ron chimed in, before sending a mischievous glance to Miranda, speaking to her in a mock-whisper, “You should have seen her when I knocked. Total mess.”

“More than _now_?” To be fair, being a mess after the shitshow today seemed par for the course. You decided to hold your tongue, only dignifying their conversation with an eyeroll. “I’m pretty sure those are hickeys.”

“I knew I wasn’t seeing things.” Ron chuckled, “Glad you had fun, (Y/N).”

“Fuck off.”

“Aww, come on. Don’t be that way. At least give us one more!” Miranda whined, giving her best puppy eyes. You scowled, keeping your gaze forward as you all walked. As much as you disliked the teasing, you knew you couldn’t be too harsh on them- you never would’ve gotten this far on your own. Taking your silence as acceptance, Miranda grinned, a vibrant, mischievous and positively lecherous look that made you regret your decision instantly, “So, did you go all the way to the _bone-zone_?”

Before you could even take a breath to deny it, chuckles emanated from the skeleton in your arms. “pfffft, heheh… i didn’t even get’ta bone’er.”

You’d never seen a group of people look so collectively proud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This particular chapter's real job heavy. Next one's probably going to be too, though.


	20. And Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some answers are acquired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the end notes for some important facts, my dude.

It hadn’t quite struck him that he’d never seen your house before until the words, “Make yourself at home,” rattled around in his skull. He stood, frozen in the doorway as you absently flicked on a light and got to work on removing your heels. After a moment you glanced over your shoulder, put off at his uncharacteristic silence, “The carpet won’t bite, you know.”

“heh. wouldn’t mind if it did. it’d have a _rug_ ged charm to it.” He hesitantly closed the door behind him, deciding to follow your lead and remove his shoes as well. He missed his slippers about now.

You blinked at him, giving him a look he easily recognized as ‘severely unimpressed’. “I was considering getting wood floors, and you’ve just cemented the decision. Thanks.” You sighed, before taking a moment and standing up straight. You weren’t blind- it was clear that he was… uncomfortable about something, but you weren’t clear on what. “What’s wrong?” You internally cringed at the harsh tone- that definitely wasn’t going to help.

“wrong? nah. nothin’s _wrong_.” Sans scratched the back of his skull, eyelights lazily scanning the room before returning to your gaze, “just, uh. _house_ a guy ‘sposed to feel about bein’ taken home like this?” Your house was impeccably clean. Spotless. It rivaled even Papyrus’s cleaning. He always had you pegged for a neat-freak, but he figured it was by necessity- being messy would never be conducive to running a station. But he thought maybe you’d let it slip while you were at home. Guess not.

You tilted your head. He was… nervous about being in your house? Or was he implying he was nervous about sleeping with you? Because if it was the latter, you had him beat by a long shot, and if it was the former, then… it was kind of cute. Unable to decide which route to answer for, you decided to take your preferred method, and snark your way out of it. “Honored. Not many people see the inside nowadays.” You sighed, “But just let me change, and I’ll take you h-”

“no!” Sans’ outburst surprised even him. Stars, was his voice echoing?? Was the house _that_ big, or was it just really silent? “i mean. i wanna stay.” He pulled at his tie, hoping the movement would calm him down, “here. with you. but, i just wanna make sure you’re ‘lright.” He wondered if he was always this bad with words, before the resets.  “y’know. with me bein’ _here_.”

It took a minute. He was a mess (when wasn’t he?), but you understood. You’d already accepted him, what he had to say, and his feelings. But letting him into your house? You’d said it yourself, not many people were allowed this far, and after Casey passed, it was practically a fortress. Every aspect of your life- personal and professional- was in here. And you were letting him in. He didn’t say it, but you felt it. You didn’t know when your hand drifted to your chest, but it just made you that much more aware of your breathing. With a slight gesture of your hand, you turned and continued toward your room, “Like I said; make yourself at home.”

He stared at you, eyelights going wide and bright as he followed the tail of your dress, from the floor to your hips, up your back. “i… yeah.” He unwittingly stepped forward, overly aware of how soft the carpet was against his tarsals. “thanks.” The halls were clear, and surprisingly… empty. No pictures hung up on the wall or overly ornate decorations. He entered your room, glancing around curiously. “huh.” He meandered over to the nightstand, picking up a photo and studying it. Pictured there was you, smiling brighter than he’d ever seen, and your arm around the shoulder of someone who looked like an even younger version of you.

You stepped out of your dress, setting it on the bed, “Casey and I, the day I graduated from the academy.” You opened up the closet, grabbing a hanger to put your dress up, absently making a note to get it dry cleaned. You heard Sans chuckle as he looked over the picture.

“he looks like you.” He had to wonder who was taking the picture. An old boyfriend? Your parents?

A soft chuckle- a sound that absolutely warmed him inside- left you, “It’s about the only thing we shared.” At that, Sans turned around to question you and nearly spluttered when he saw you in your underwear. He’d felt you before- in his dreams, his mind rudely reminded- but seeing you was… much different. He never took you as the type to match, but in this case, he liked being proven wrong. He quickly averted his gaze back to the photos, suddenly acquiring some modesty he definitely didn’t have earlier. “Check the drawer over there, I’ve got some old clothes that might fit you.” He listened as you wandered off toward the bathroom, pajamas in tow, “I’ll be a minute.”

After the door shut and he was alone in your room, he couldn’t help but get a sense of nostalgia about this. He set the picture down, noting the others, each similar but growing progressively more somber.  It was strange to consider that this had been going on while he, and the rest of monsterkind, were trapped behind the barrier. He shrugged off his jacket and tie, leaving it in a heap on the floor. He pulled at the bottom drawer of the nightstand, pausing when it didn’t budge. “locked, huh?” He hated that he considered, for just a moment, trying to pick it. He knew the importance of privacy better than anyone. Even as he shuffled off to one of the other dressers, the lock still lingered in his mind.

He quickly distracted himself by going through your clothes. Mostly muted colors. Subtle, like you. He found a comfortable, worn set of sweatpants and what he could only assume was an old workout uniform top, since it had ‘EBOTT RECRUITS’ written boldly across the front. He chuckled as he stripped out of his formal clothes, breathing a sigh of relief once he was finally out of the restrictive garments. You were right; ties definitely weren’t his thing. He hesitantly settled himself on the edge of your bed, and had barely relaxed when the connecting bathroom door opened and the steam poured out of the room. He never liked clichés much, but you looked like an ethereal being, water clinging to your hair and how you bore every scar without shame in that moment.

“dunno if i said it before but you’re beautiful, y’know.”

The genuine compliment, barely a whisper in the silence completely stopped you in your tracks. Flushing so hard after getting out of the shower couldn’t have been good for your head. You clasped your hands in front of you, absently running your fingers over your nails, sifting through every possible response before you just pushed your hair back. You weren’t… angry to hear it- and it wasn’t like you’d never been told before… but so blatantly? And… _him_? With how his voice echoed through you, resonated in places no one’s ever had? It was embarrassing… “…Oh.” After you got past your initial bout of bashfulness, you sat on the bed next to him, pulling the remote from underneath the pillows and handing it off, haphazardly, “Find something good.”

He watched, feeling himself grow more and more at ease when you settled yourself properly into bed, pulling your laptop from somewhere and sinking down into the pillows. You just looked so… normal. Not an ounce of that command from earlier was left in your demeanor, but that didn’t make you _soft_ by any means. Just… normal. It was the part of you he’d been wanting to see- _feel_ \- and now that he was faced with it, he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to do about it, “that, i can do.” He quickly found a scientific documentary of the universe and was engrossed in it before he even realized what had happened. He sprawled out across your legs, barely propping his head up with his fist, only slightly aware of the quiet tapping at the keyboard from behind him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d relaxed like this, since Papyrus left for training.

It was a good feeling.

He settled himself on your thighs, wondering absently what you were so engrossed with. Work, judging by that hint of a scowl on your face; and if he was as perceptive as he thought he was, it had to do with the incident at the ball earlier. “workin’ this late?”

“You know me.” You mumbled absently, scanning the screen again. You’d have to do a more in-depth search on your PC at the station, but running background checks on all the names on the list seemed like a good place to start. You couldn’t get Riley on this to follow up, you had to focus. In the case this was pointless (and you desperately hoped it wouldn’t be), you made the plan to follow up with Riley’s detectives on the MHU kid. Probably pay them a visit yourself.

Sans raised an eyebrow bone, “you work too hard. don’tcha ever slack off?” You weren’t even on duty. Your dedication was admirable, but even looking at you was wearing him out.

“No.”

He figured that was going to be the response, but the speed and nonchalance you said it with was just slightly jarring. “well, lucky for you, ‘m an expert slacker. lemme show you how.” He nudged the laptop off to your side, smirking up at you when you met his eyelights. “first step done.”

You rolled your eyes, before reaching out, placing a hand on his cheek. Still as confusing as you always remembered. Porcelain, but not. Moldable, but not. You’d never understand him, but maybe you liked it that way. It was only after a moment had passed that you realized you’d yet to say anything. “You can’t distract me.”

And you’re back. Sans chuckled, watching as you pulled the laptop closer, but didn’t put it back on your lap. “that a challenge?”

“It’s not.” He didn’t miss that little grin. Even if you sounded annoyed, it no longer held any bite. And he figured, even if you tried, no amount of glaring at him would let him forget the taste of your tongue. He reached up, putting his hand over yours. It didn’t take a genius to see you’d burned yourself out ages ago, and only worked so hard because it was your obligation to. If anyone could recognize a look like that, it was Sans.

“it’ll be there tomorrow. c’mon.”

“You sound like Ron.” You didn’t look up from your work, but the hint of a smile in your voice made him chuckle. He’d always been receptive to the slightest changes in people’s demeanor, but after being away from you for so long, even the littlest thing seemed like a firework at midnight.

He leaned down, nipping gently at your bare thigh, “he tell you to slack off in bed often?”

“ _Please_ don’t go there.” _There_ was a shade of red he hadn’t seen in a while. He wasn’t sure if it the joke’s implication or him nuzzling your thighs that got you there, but he was pleased all the same.

“what’re you even lookin’ at? somethin’ important?” It was definitely about the ball; whatever happened in that time you’d gone to speak with Riley had changed you. You did a good job covering it; if he hadn’t watched for Ron’s reaction to you, he probably would’ve just suspected you of being tired.

“Everything I do is important.” He’d never expected hear someone sound so worn out about a statement like that. You paused, glancing absently at his hand overtop yours. Everyone was always so intent on getting you to relax. If only your mind would let you. But… that was no reason to shrug off their efforts. You’d always assumed things would just be there when you were done with work, just like you always just assumed Casey would be there. Look how that turned out.

You weren’t always _that_ expressive. With annoyance, maybe, but regret that blatant? “‘s on your mind?”

“Just remembering Casey.” You tucked your hair behind your ear, before realizing that was probably the worst mood-killer in history. “But that’s- he’s not- I mean, you shouldn’t worry about that. Me. I’m okay.” Aaand now it’s awkward. You wondered absently if smothering yourself with a pillow was acceptable in this situation.

“i ain’t expectin’ you to just _forget_ about your baby brother, (y/n).” Papyrus ran through his mind every day. He’d be a hypocrite of the highest order if he faulted you for something like that. “wanna tell me ‘bout him?”

You were floored by his understanding. You’d always expected mocking or pity, but he was just… empathetic, if nothing else. Considering Papyrus, that made sense, but you’d been closed off about him for so long you never really knew what to expect. The last person to ask was probably Papyrus, and you’d been at your worst then. Angry and grief-stricken, and Papyrus just… accepted you, wholeheartedly. “Well…” You gave a defeated little laugh, “He’d probably hate you, to start.” You reclined into the pillows.

“guess that’d be another thing you two had in common.”

“Are you trying to insinuate you’d immediately _like_ someone who threw you against a wall?” You reached down, easily lifting him up so his ribs were against your stomach, “If so, I’ll have to make a note.” You’d never, ever get tired of the way his face glowed like that.

“never gonna live that down, am i?”

“Not if I can help it.” You chuckled, but quickly sighed, “But I think he just wouldn’t have liked seeing you with me. Even setting the whole monster thing aside, Casey was… aggressive when it came to letting people in.” You closed your eyes, sifting through the old memories. “And I think that had a lot to do with him feeling abandoned early on. Hell… even when I took him in. It was really hard on him.”

Sans only nodded, holding his breath as you rambled. Somehow, he felt if he reminded you that he was there, you’d suddenly close off again and he’d never get to hear it.

“My parents didn’t like that he wanted to transition and threatened to kick him out. I was with the Task Force by then, so… I let him live with me, instead. They cut him out after that. I tried to keep things together- with our parents and Casey, but I was so busy, it never really worked. In the end, we all just drifted apart. My parents moved away, and Casey and I stayed in Ebott.” You reached up, tucking your arm between the pillows, “I was no parent, though. Going through the ranks, I was a mess for a long time… Did a lot of things that I shouldn’t have.”

There was something faraway in your gaze that he couldn’t quite pin down. People he’d never meet, and places he’d never see were all vivid in memories you’d chosen not to share with him. And that bothered him.

“I just bought him things, trying to make up for the fact that I was always busy. It was my fault that he always felt so lonely. Sure, you can lecture a kid for hours about getting into trouble, and why they shouldn’t do something, but it won’t stick without a solid example. I couldn’t be that for him…” You looked up at the ceiling with a sad smile, “He was so bright, though. Could pick up anything and learn it in days, if he wanted.” You sighed, “Could make friends with anyone he wanted to. He was cool like that.” You weren’t sure if talking about him so blatantly was helping you, or just making you more upset that you hadn’t done more to prevent what had happened.

“it’s real weird hearing you talk like that. i raised paps, underground.” It wasn’t quite the same situation, of course- everyone in the Underground was helpful when they were both so young, but the parallels were… interesting. He recalled Toriel’s description about the SYNC and wondered if maybe this is why you resonated. Perhaps you’d even resonated from the beginning and he just never realized it.

“You did a good job.”

He stared at you, eyelights wide and bright as he tried to comprehend why he suddenly felt so… well, he wasn’t entirely sure. He’d never had someone say something like that to him before; he wanted to put it all on Papyrus- he was an optimist and kind by nature, but… It felt wrong to say something like that after you explained your experience. “uh… thanks.”

You hummed, before folding your arms across your eyes. You wanted to think that you were still wide awake, but your body was begging to differ. With Sans’ weight on top of you, the soft pillows, and your arms blocking out the dim light from the television… you could definitely fall asleep right now. “Papyrus really loves you.” You felt Sans move- probably to look at you, but you refused to uncover your eyes. “When we made our first deal, he couldn’t bear to lose you.” You remembered that moment so vividly, despite the concussion- watching Papyrus decide between his dreams and his brother. It was… touching. “Casey wasn’t-” You paused, “He’d wouldn’t have-” The words alluded you. You knew your brother well enough that he wouldn’t have done the same, but you couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence. “What I’m saying is, what you two have is great. I know I’m preaching to the choir but cherish it.”

No need to tell him twice. He’d taken a minute to watch you, the rise and fall of your chest, the way your nails curled into your palms. The way you licked your lips when you were thinking. “i will.” He mumbled quietly after a while. He’d never seen you asleep before, but once you settled and your breath evened out, he was even more entranced than when you were awake. Some part of him suddenly was more awake and alive than he’d ever been. A bit of him reminding him- _loudly_ \- that this was real, and he was living, and he had something that he wanted to keep. All the frustration of the last few months had amounted to this, and… it was worth it. He’d care if it was all reset. He wanted to keep this. And stars, that was terrifying. If this was ripped away from him now? If he fell asleep and woke up back in Snowdin? He wasn’t sure if he even could. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed up- long enough for you to wrap your arms around him and place your cheek against his skull, and long enough that the tv automatically turned off, and long enough that he could watch the shadows of midnight fade away into the early rays of dawn. And for once, he was okay with staying up all night, just to make sure he wouldn’t wake up in Snowdin again.

 

Your alarm went off at four fifteen, like it did every day. You sighed, readying yourself to sit up when the weight on your chest gave you the slightest bit of pause. Oh. Sans. Right. You were surprised he didn’t even stir at the alarm- but it was one of the… less obnoxious ones. You were a light sleeper as it was. You stared down at him, lips twisted as you considered how to move him without waking him up… As much as you’d love to sleep in, you knew better. “Alright…” You mumbled, scooting him off of you gently and off onto his side. Other than a loud snore, he didn’t respond. That was… shockingly easy. You recalled him waking up much easier when you were at the hotel, but then again, that whole ordeal was probably stressful for the both of you. After folding the comforter over him, you went on to get dressed and ready for work. Before leaving the room, you decided to leave a note on the nightstand- it’d only be polite, after all. You’d come back for lunch to take him back to his own apartment, then you could get on with rest of your day. You were already dreading how long today was going to be.

The station was quiet as it always was so early, but… that wasn’t a bad thing. It let you focus, and you knew you were going to be needing that today. Every single person on that list was getting a background check- histories of violence were going to be at the top of the list. Discrimination would be a close second. Considering the prominence of all the guests, it was likely that any flaw wouldn’t be easily accessible, but it was worth a shot. That murderer was going down, if it was the last thing you’d do.

It was nearly eight when your office door swung open- and there stood Ron with two coffees and a mile-wide grin. “Morning, Chief.”

“Ron.” You gave a brief nod of acknowledgment but kept your eyes on your files. You’d come up with more violent charges than you expected, but most of them were domestic, and no where near as gruesome as the ones you were looking for. Unlikely matches. No connections. “What’s got you in such a good mood?”

“You, of course!” He set the coffee on your desk, “The plan yesterday was a total success. Miranda hasn’t stopped talking about it.”

“I’m still _very_ upset with you all.” You sharpened your tone, glaring at the screen for emphasis, “I can’t believe _any_ of you thought it was even _remotely appropriate_ to **_lock me in a closet._** ” The concept was so inane you couldn’t even pinpoint whose idea it was initially.

“The door wasn’t locked, you could have left whenever you wanted. You _wanted_ to be in there.” He was right, but that didn’t make it any better.

“And I guess you _wanted_ to be on report duty today for that little stunt, don’t you?”

“I give you happiness, and you put me on report duty? After _yesterday_? Has anyone ever told you that you’re excessively cruel?”

“Yes,” You said with a small grin, taking a sip from the coffee he’d brought. “By you, in fact.” Though, you were assigning him to sign off on all the reports, it wasn’t just to get back at him. You needed to go out today and being overwhelmed with the reports would only limit your time. If you had time after returning from your investigation, then you’d probably help him out. Not that he needed to know that. “Better get to work, Deputy.”

Ron’s shoulder’s drooped dramatically as he shook his head, “I have no idea why I try to do nice things for you.”

“Something to do with that officers’ camaraderie, if I had to guess.” You watched him turn to head off to his own office but found yourself calling him before he left the room entirely.

He turned to look back at you, but you’d focused your attention on the screen once again, “Yeah, (Y/N)?”

“…Thanks.” You didn’t have to look up at him to know he’d straightened up. He understood. Even if you tried to be prickly about it, you appreciated him sticking by you, and every underhanded trick he’d tried on you in the past few months… even if you complained about it.

“Anytime.”

 

After getting through the invitation list, you decided it was time to call Riley up. Following up on the MHU kid was the next step, and if Wanda’s detectives hadn’t found anything on their own, then you were happy to push things forward yourself. It was impossible for nothing to come of this. It had to be. The idea that you were just wasting your time pursuing some false flag just made your blood boil. _No_. Today was the day, goddamn it.

“I can’t remember the last time I saw you look like that.” Riley’s voice drew you from your thoughts, making you unfold her arms and set them on your hips, instead.

“…Like _what?_ ” With Riley now at your side, the two of you started off toward an unmarked car.

Wanda gestured to her face loosely, scrunching up her nose in, what you hoped was, a poor imitation. “You know, eager. It’s been all blanks from you for a while.” You rolled your eyes in response, taking the keys from your pocket to unlock the car door. In that short moment, Riley chuckled, “Got it.”

“What?”

“New relationship.” You swore under your breath as the keys slipped from your hand and clattered onto the pavement. The sound of Riley’s laughter made you that more self-conscious about bending down to get them. Your natural response was to deny it, but… she was technically right, wasn’t she? It was her job to notice changes like that, but you really didn’t appreciate her investigative skills being used like this.

“It isn’t a- He isn’t my- yet- I think.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to ward off the impending headache. It was supposed to be a work day. After a second of ruminating on that failed sentence, you gave up, opened the door, sat down and rejected the urge to put your head on the steering wheel.

“Relax,” Wanda sighed with a soft chuckle, settling into the passenger seat, “I’m glad for you.”

You pushed your hair back, starting the car in the time you tried to figure out an appropriate response to this situation, “…thank you.” Had he really had such an effect on you, without you even realizing it? You hadn’t thought so, but this wasn’t the first time someone acknowledged a shift in your behavior after interacting with him. You ran your fingertips over your nails, taking a minute to compose yourself before quietly murmuring, “…I’m happy.”  The moment didn’t linger long, though. Before Wanda could even puzzle out a way to respond, you’d shaken it off and had already set the car in motion. Back to business as always. “Did your detectives uncover anything during their observation?”

The chief investigator shook her head, “Nothing we were searching for.”  It had been on relatively short notice, and you had jumped into action far sooner than she expected. Naturally, the rush of operations would cause some faults, but her investigators were good at what they did. If they didn’t find anything, then there probably wasn’t much to find in the first place.

“Run me through it.”

“The phone belongs to Ashley Hartmann, a junior at Toby Fox High School. Other than the tips, she’s never been in contact with us. Her parents are clear of any arrests, as well.” Wanda closed her eyes, mentally recalling the file, “I recall one of my boys saying they witnessed a monster in the home, but were unable to get close enough to identify them.”

The results- or lack thereof- was discomforting. “And no connections to Old Mountain Heights?”

“None.” Wanda frowned, “Not even a mention.”

“I see.” The silence was more telling than anything you could’ve said in that moment. You glanced at Wanda once, meeting her eyes and sighing when she nodded. Even you weren’t entirely sure if it was in relief or anticipation. The moment the car was in park, you pushed your hair back, “Are you ready?”

“I should be asking you that.” Wanda unclicked her seatbelt, checking her pockets as she opened the door, “It’s been a while since you’ve had to flash your badge, hasn’t it?”

“Only a few years.” You quickly fell in step with Riley, heading down the street. It seemed like a calm enough neighborhood. It’d almost be comforting, if you weren’t constantly reminded why you were here in the first place.

Wanda smiled, “You aren’t nervous?”

“If _I_ was nervous, I’m sure _you’d_ be having a heart attack.” Any situation you didn’t have to unholster your gun was a situation within your comfort zone. Riley’s retort was forced onto the backburner when you knocked on the front door, and clasped your hands behind your back. The sound of voices could be heard from the inside, before the door opened up to a teen clad in her pajamas.

It was all smiles when she opened up the door wide, “Hey-” It quickly faded when her eyes fell on the uniforms, and shiny badges being brandished in her face, “Oh shit.” It was hard to believe someone could go pale so quickly.

“Good morning. I’m (F/N) (L/N) from the Ebott City Police Department.” Your pleasant introduction hadn’t done much to calm the girl, who looked like she wanted to flee any moment now.

“Wanda Riley.” She raised a brow before folding her arms, “We’re looking for Ashley Hartmann. Does she live here?”

“I-I’m Ashley.” She sent a wary glance over her shoulder before deciding to step out and shut the door. “Look, um, officers. I have homework and I re-”

“We just need to ask you a few questions.” You sharpened your tone, watching closely for any indication she’d reject the interrogation. “Your cooperation would be highly appreciated.”

“I-” She looked between the two, clutching her phone in her vice-like grasp. Terrified was a gross understatement of her condition. “I- I don’t know anything. I swear.”

Wanda opened up her files, reciting a phone number to her, shooting her a skeptical look, “Is that your phone number?”

“Yeah…?”

“Thank you.” Ashley’s eyebrows furrowed at the response. ‘Thank you’ seemed like an oddly… tempered reaction. “Then it’s also true that you’ve been sending tips with that same number?”

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She backed up, clumsily fumbling with the doorknob in a desperate attempt to open it. “I- I have to go to class now- please leave!”

You sighed. You really were hoping it would be an easy day. You met Wanda’s gaze and nodded, allowing her to hook the handcuffs as she prattled off the Miranda Rights. It’d been a long time since she had to do that. “You’re being arrested on suspicion of murder, understand?”

“No! No, no! I didn’t kill him- you can’t! _I didn’t_!” She pulled at Wanda’s grasp, but was kept in place with a gentle hand on the shoulder. The indignation quickly changed to tears as youu walked her back to the car.

“We’re bringing you to the station for interrogation.” It was… difficult listening to her sob that way. You and Wanda shared a look- you both knew it had to be done, but that didn’t make it any easier.

 

Sans awoke, snuggly wrapped in a comforter and a bed he was pretty sure wasn’t his or Papyrus’s. He sat up, stretching as he observed the room. He’d almost think it was a hotel if the photos on the nightstand didn’t tell him whose home it was. Some part of him was still in avid disbelief that he was here- that the ball had gone as well as it had, and he hadn’t woken up in Snowdin, yet. But… he was glad, all things considered, even if the reality hadn’t quite hit him. He pushed the blankets aside, stumbling out of bed when a little white note beside the pictures caught his attention.

‘ _I had to go in. I’ll be back around noon to take you home. Until then, my house is yours. Don’t wreck it. (Y/N).’_

He stared at the note, finding himself chuckling at your curt tone, even in note form. Business, through and through. He put the note down on the bed, before wandering out into the hallway- empty and silent. The thought that you’d dealt with that for months after Casey died, that the silence had to haunt you, just like it haunted him when-

He forced himself to shake the thought. _Not_ _today_.

He found himself opening up each door as he passed it. Closet. Bathroom. Study. Spare. The next door, though, squeaked as he opened it, as if protesting the movement. He paused in the doorway, noting the room’s clutter, and dust. “musta been casey’s…” He mumbled, stepping inside cautiously. The blackout curtains, and band posters all over the walls were completely contrary to the rest of the house. A guitar and keyboard leaned against the wall, and beside that, a desk, cluttered with a computer and magazines, and oddly enough, a neatly stacked pile of white envelopes.

He picked them up despite himself. He wished, desperately, he could justify rummaging through someone’s private mail, but other than pure curiosity, he really couldn’t. He carefully navigated to the kitchen, sitting at the island before finding a letter at the bottom of the stack that had already been opened. As he skimmed it, the realization that he really, _really_ , should not have touched these dawned on him.

But he couldn’t put them back. Not after he knew they were letters from the person who’d accidentally murdered Casey. His browbones furrowed as he stared at the pile. He left them at the island as he turned around and looked through the fridge, searching for anything to make the decision for him, before finding some ketchup and sitting himself right back at that island. “didn’t paps say somethin’ about letters…?” In one of the first letters he’d got from him, if he recalled correctly. He hadn’t been particularly interested back then, but now? He couldn’t just read it and pretend he hadn’t. He couldn’t do it. He leaned against the marble, sighed, and took a swig of ketchup. Well. He was this far, and he couldn’t see himself lying to you. He’d just have to take it if you were upset.

He opened up the letter on top- dated most recently, it looked like, and pulled out the folded sheet of notebook paper.

‘ _I know I haven’t gotten an answer since I started sending these. I never really thought I would get one, either… I’ve already come to terms with what I’ve done. I’m sorry. Really am. I’ve been addressing the other ones to Casey, but… those ones were for me. To help me. But not this one. This one is for you, Chief (L/N). I’m worried. Lou’s gotten… weird, in the letters she’s been writing me. Erratic, and I don’t know who else to turn to. I tried telling my therapists, but they didn’t do anything. I can’t tell anyone else. I hope you read this. Please read this. She wrote me, saying she watched a human get stabbed to death in an abandoned building, and that there was so much dust… A lot of it was… kind of jumbled…I could tell she was afraid. Said she’d ‘never seen a demon’s soul, but it burned, it was hot and blinding. Searing. Like molten lava oozing from the CORE,’_

Sans dropped the letter as if it had physically burned him, nearly knocking over the others in his haste to get rid of the damn thing. The color, that _fucking color_ wouldn’t fade from his mind. “nope. nope.” He didn’t want to acknowledge what his intuition was screaming at him, what that phantom wound across his sternum was warning him of. “ **N o .** ”

He closed his eyes, forcibly exhaling his nerves away, as he gathered up the rest of the letters and returned them to Casey’s room. Some things were best unopened, he decided.

 

Back at the station, you leaned against the wall, arms folded as Wanda set the timer on her watch. “94 minutes left.” The investigator mumbled.

“We’re not going to need that.” You opened your eyes, tilting your head as you glanced at the interrogation room. “She’s terrified. She’ll talk before we need to officially charge her.” Your eyes drifted up to the screen, where Ashley sat in the interrogation room alone, occasionally wiping her eyes. She was hysterical the first five minutes, so you both made the decision to leave the room and let her gain her bearings.

“She might not know anything.” Riley said after a moment, clicking her pen absently, “Someone else may have sent the message from her phone.”

“She knows.” The definite statement caught Wanda’s attention, “And I know you heard it, too.” When you caught her eyes you tapped the camera on your uniform. “She said ‘him’.”

“What?”

“‘I didn’t kill _him_.’” You absently checked your watch- half past 10. You might have to send Sans a text if this runs long… “She knows why we’re after her. People slip up under duress.” It’d be fair that Wanda didn’t hear it- she was saying the Miranda Rights at the time. But this lead was solid, and you’d be damned if you let it go, just out of pity. Wasn’t happening.

Wanda nodded, slowly. “We probably shouldn’t be too hard on her, though.” You hummed in agreement. “You want to be the one?”

“I’m not cut out for good cop.” You said with a slight chuckle. You always managed to be intimidating, even when you weren’t trying to be. This was a role you’d have to delegate to Riley. “You ready?”

“You know it.”

Ashley jumped when the door swung open, running her hands nervously through her hair as Wanda sat down across from her. “Look, Hartmann, we don’t want to keep you longer than we need to. Just tell us what you know and you’ll be free to go.”

The girl quickly averted her eyes, twisting and untwisting her hair as she slowly spoke. “I told you I don’t know anything.” The tremor in her hands didn’t escape your gaze. There had to be a reason this girl was being so stubborn. “My phone must have been hacked. I… I don’t know anything at all.”

“That’s the laziest excuse I’ve _ever_ heard.” You barked suddenly, causing the girl to stiffen up. “ _I_ don’t have time for this bullshit. We’re not your parents.” You put your hand on the desk, the noise forcing the girl to make eye contact. Once you had her gaze, you refused to drop it. “You had specific information about what happened at Old Mountain Heights that we hadn’t released. No one but the perpetrator could have known it. If _you_ didn’t do it, who did, Ashley?”

“It- It wasn’t me! It wasn’t- I just- I just overheard-”

“From who?” Wanda asked, picking up her notepad.

She folded her arms, huddling up in her seat, “No.. no one.” She shook her head, biting her cheek as if to physically stop herself from giving a name.

“…You really want to go down for this?” You set your hand on your hip, “We get you on this murder charge and it’s _life,_ Ashley.” You wondered if the gravity of the situation had sunk in for her yet. You folded your arms, “How old’s your mother?”

Confused, the girl looked to Wanda, who offered no assistance. “…She’s…52…?”

“Add 25 to that.”

“…77…”

“The average life span is 78.”  You leaned against the desk, “One year left with her. Assuming you even get paroled.” You tapped your fingers against the desk, “Is that really something you want to risk? That your mother dies while you’re in prison, thinking you’re a murderer? For some shit you didn’t even do?”

The silence was heavy. Ashley looked between the two of you, mouth agape as she searched for an answer, “No, of- of course n-not.” Her voice was starting to break again, the waver becoming more prominent as she sniffled, “I di-didn’t do it. I didn’t…”

“I know you didn’t. You’re a good kid, I’m sure. Just got mixed up in something bigger than yourself.” Wanda said softly, sliding a box of tissues over toward her. “You just need to tell us how you knew what happened at Old Mountain Heights, that’s all.” Wanda looked up at you, “You only need to answer the questions, then we’ll let you go home.”

“I don’t really kn-know that much.” She mumbled into her sleeve after a minute. “My friend Lou was just really scared. She was sleeping in an abandoned building an-and said she saw this guy get stabbed. Just torn apart. She wouldn’t go to the police, so I just sent the tip, based off what she told me.”

“Why wouldn’t Lou go to the police with the information?” Wanda asked, writing hastily as the teen spoke.

“Lou’s a monster- she really hates cops. Bad experiences, I guess. She never really talked to me about it…” Ashley coughed lightly, “But it really bothered her, what happened. I told her I wouldn’t tell anyone, but it- I couldn’t live with myself. Knowing whoever did it was still out there. So, I sent the tip. I never saw the murderer myself. I only heard about them.”

“What did you hear?”

“Lou was really messed up that night… she wasn’t really making sense, but she said they were quiet. Just snuck up on the guy from behind and-” She made a slitting motion with her hand, “-just gutted him.”

“Physical descriptions? Hair color? Approximate height? Monster? Human? _Anything?_ ”

She shook her head, “I couldn’t tell you…”

You sighed. Not quite the answers you were looking for, but you were getting closer. They just needed to get Loumirra to talk… which would probably prove much more difficult than apprehending Ashley. But not impossible.  “Where’s Lou?”

“…She lives with me now…” Ashley mumbled, “I tried getting her to go to the police. I really did, she just- she didn’t want to. When I asked about what happened she just started ranting and I couldn’t understand. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Relax, Ashley. You did the right thing.” Wanda said in a hushed tone, nudging your arm, “Once we catch this guy, know that you helped save lives. Relax.”

“Thank you for your cooperation.” You stated numbly, before heading toward the door. It’d been a long time since you’d participated in investigations. Ashley had given you a trail, and you were going to follow it. You trusted Wanda to wrap up here.

 

You’d probably paced the space between your office desk and door fifty times before realizing it hadn’t gotten you anywhere. After receiving an email from Wanda about the interrogation’s conclusion- ‘ _MHU stands for Monsters-Humans- United. Lou is indeed short for Loumirra. Ashley was not aware of any other murders, aside from the one regarding Old Mountain Heights. Her parents picked her up from the station. I advised her to refrain mentioning the interrogation to Loumirra until we are ready to proceed.’_ You were at a loss. However, Wanda was as efficient and succinct as always.

It didn’t put you at ease, though. You knew you needed to talk to Loumirra, soon. The longer you waited, the more people could be dying. If you rushed, though, you risked making a mistake. You had to plan carefully. You’d have to keep in touch with Riley about it.

 

A few days had passed since the interrogation. You’d yet to take your mind off of it, fully, and Sans could tell you were more distracted than usual. Maybe that’s why he was pleasantly surprised when you’d practically tossed him into your car and set out somewhere without even telling him where you were going. Not that he minded. He was always relaxed when he reclined in your car’s leather seats and turned on the seat warmers. It put him out in a matter of minutes.

On the road, you glanced at the snoozing skeleton, chuckling under your breath as he snored away. “Probably has no idea what today is.” You mumbled, reaching out and stroking his cheek with the back of your hand. Out like a light. If he knew where you were headed, you were positive he’d be wide awake. You were surprised when he didn’t even wake up once the engine stopped. Well. He’d certainly be in for a surprise when he opened his eyes… whenever that might be.

You stepped out of the car, absently scrolling through your phone to ensure you had the right location. The question was quickly answered for you. “MISS CHIEF!!” The boney arms lifting you up certainly caught you off guard… but they weren’t unwelcome.  “IT’S BEEN SO LONG! I- THE GREAT AND CAPABLE _OFFICER_ PAPYRUS- HAVE RETURNED TO EBOTT!!”

“That you have, Papyrus.” It took all of the training you’d ever endured not to wheeze. Was Papyrus always this strong, or was this the training? Once he set you down, you looked up at the monster who had once been a recruit- _your_ recruit. He’d gone through STF training and came back in one piece. It was almost imperceptible from his usual confidence, but he held himself differently, now. More steady on his feet. Grounded. But just as enthusiastic as ever. You hoped that would stick with him throughout his career, prevent him from becoming jaded and cynical. “Guess I can’t call you cadet anymore.”

You didn’t think it was possible for his eyes to sparkle, but they surely did. “THAT’S RIGHT!! I’M A FULL-FLEDGED OFFICER NOW!”

You folded your arms with a hint of a grin, “You’ll always be a rookie to me.” After a second, you looked up at him, “With moxy and mettle…”

“WE SHALL NEVER SETTLE!!” Papyrus threw his hand out and could hardly contain his gleeful ‘NYEH’s when you placed your hand over top his.

At once you finished together, “Always an honor to serve!” Thomas still taught that old phrase. Good to see that some things will never change.

“Welcome home, Papyrus.”

 

Sans yawned, stretching his arms. “y’feel different…” Something… was certainly different about this. He knew was being picked up- and he wasn’t uncomfortable, so it was someone he knew… He almost fell back asleep until he looked over and saw you setting bags down beside his couch. Who the hell was…?

“GOOD MORNING LAZY BONES!! FINALLY!” Was he… dreaming right now? Yeah. Probably. He closed his eyes, deciding he’d try and wake up again later. “SANS! I DID NOT CARRY YOU ALL THIS WAY FOR YOU TO FALL ASLEEP AGAIN!”

“Maybe he fainted at the sight of you.” You said flatly from across the room. You… were answering. Either this was some advanced dreaming or…

“WELL, WHO WOULDN’T AT THE SIGHT OF SOMEONE AS GLORIOUS AS ME? BUT STILL, I EXPECTED BETTER!”

He wasn’t dreaming.

“paps!” The short skeleton sat up, eyelights suddenly brighter than ever at the sight of his beloved brother. He’d stopped keeping track of the date early on- had it been five months already? Not to say he wasn’t ecstatic. He definitely was. “you’re back, bro!” He couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt this happy. At anything. Ever. “i’ve been savin’ up a skele _ton_ of jokes for ya.”

“SANS. NO. NOT THE PUNS. PLEASE.” You never thought it’d be possible for Papyrus to sound emotionally distressed, but there it was.

“I agree with Papyrus.”

“just one joke. c’mon.” Papyrus didn’t say anything, but the look Sans received spurred him forward, anyway. “knock knock.”

“WHO’S THERE?”

“juno.”

“JUNO WHO?”

“juno i’m real prouda you, bro. i missed ya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. So. First, sorry for the long wait. Next:  
> I've decided the Underfell version of SotM is going to be called "The Virtuous Few" so keep on the lookout for that.
> 
> It definitely won't be uploaded until SotM's completely done though. With that being said, however, SotM's actually nearing it's end. Probably two or three more chapters to go. I'm kind of sad about it. Have you ever just not wanted to finish something because you'd be terribly sad if it was over? That's how I feel about it.


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